It Could Fill A Book
by pennanomino
Summary: What they have could fill a book. Harvey and Donna from the day they first meet to being held at gunpoint by a raving lunatic. Flirty banter, dramatic plot, and beautiful romance all included. Mike/Rachel in there too. Give it a shot.
1. Chapter 1: Beautiful

Harvey Specter had never given much thought to the meaning of beautiful.

After all, pretty women practically threw themselves at him; he was top of this class at Harvard Law with well-known connections to Jessica Pearson, head of one of New York's most successful law firms. He was just days away from starting his work there as one of her first associates.

The fact that he had a gorgeous body, great hair, and excellent fashion taste was just a plus.

So, no, if you asked him what beautiful was, he wouldn't really have an answer. At least, until he met _her_.

Then Harvey would tell you beautiful was cascading strawberry blond hair, coffee brown eyes, ivory skin, and slender eyebrows that arched in perfectly disdainful contempt.

Because when Harvey met Donna the first thing he thought was 'beautiful'. Of course that didn't stop him from making an ass of himself.

Donna was then in the employment of David Cranford. The guy was a creep, with hands and eyes that always lingered just a little too long on all the wrong places. But first year secretaries were first year secretaries and Donna would be damned if one bad assignment kept her from going somewhere in this firm.

That didn't stop Cranford from being leery and everyone knowing it. Of course, the brilliant Harvey Specter considered himself above the man, even if David held the title of Junior Partner to Harvey's associate. But Cranford was going nowhere soon, while Harvey was on the fast track to success.

If Cranford was below Harvey then his _secretary_ was out of the question, no matter how beautiful she was. It was Harvey's first day and, cockiness aside, he was working his ass off to prove himself. But damn, if the work wasn't hard. Harder because half the Junior Partners hated him for being Jessica's protégé and took their revenge through dumping twice, no three times as much work on Harvey as anyone else. He figured that he could save himself some extra time and maybe even grab some sleep by having a secretary make some of his endless copies for him.

In a flawless suit that he spent half of college saving up for just so he could be far and away the best dressed associate, Harvey sauntered up to an impeccable desk. Donna sat with fingers flying, her eyes never once leaving the screen to eye the nearing associate. He stood at her desk for a full minute, his easy grin not even flickering in response to Donna's chill. He figured she would look up from pure curiosity if nothing else. It was only afterward that he considered she might have simply glanced at him because she had nothing else to do at that precise point in time, having finished her last task of the day (in record time, of course).

"Yes?" Her question was pointed, indicating that he should get straight to the point. Donna hated small talk.

"I was hoping you wouldn't mind running these down to the copy room for me. I got a lot on my plate right now and thought maybe you'd be willing to lend a hand to an overworked associate."

His smooth tone and self-pity did nothing to charm the woman in front of him. Her expression changed not once throughout his spiel, thoughts hidden behind an angular face. She waited until she was certain he was done talking. Then she waited some more, stretching out the silence between them. Finally Harvey shifted his weight from one foot to the other and she knew what was coming.

"So-" He didn't even get the first word out before a perfectly manicured finger snapped up to cut him off. She looked at him for another few moments, and he lost his patience.

"What the hell are you looking at me like that for!" he exclaimed, ignoring the reproachful finger in front of him.

"Searching" she replied, with utmost serenity, just barely lifting an eyebrow in response to his outburst.

"Need glasses?" He regained some of his usual composure.

"No, I have 20/20 vision, but I still can't see a single shred of intelligence that you are rumored to have."

His flash of surprise from her answer didn't show for long. It was soon replaced by a slow grin that looked genuine in comparison to his former smirk.

"You should know better than to listen to rumors"

"Well, I do now. I admit, I was hoping for something other than classic Harvard, but I guess a girl can't have everything."

Prepared this time, he didn't let his flash of disappointment show. Unfortunately for Harvey, Donna wasn't quite done with the confident associate.

He had made the mistake of resting the file in question on the edge of her desk. She leaned forward with grace and, while deliberately maintaining eye contact, blew just hard enough to send the folder tumbling to the ground. Harvey was not yet experienced enough to hide his dismay as his carefully organized papers crashed into disarray. He knelt, gathered them into some form of order, and then rose to meet Donna's eyes a last time before returning to his cubicle.

Donna initially dismissed him as another Harvard robot, with too much confidence and not enough sense. She was slightly impressed with his basic control of emotions, though it was nowhere near _her_ acting abilities. But what struck her, and left her thinking of the young associate, was the way he looked at her before turning back down the hallway.

It wasn't the anger, indignation or fear that she had seen in the other unfortunates who had been stupid enough to try to give her orders. It had been more along the lines of… fascination? Admiration, even? So the boy can appreciate talent, so what? She thought to herself, a little angry at her inability to get him out of her head.

It _was_ admiration in his eyes. Harvey kept his emotions out of Donna's view, but when he placed his back in between her probing gaze and his face, he let a very real smile spread. Sure, that had been kind of embarrassing, but, hell, he had always known to learn from his mistakes. He'd be damned if he made that one again. Humiliation aside, the whole thing had been kinda funny. He enjoyed having someone who would talk back. He needed practice since all the other associates either retorted with nothing even resembling wit, or took his insults like they were compliments. He privately promised himself that next time he would show her what the real Harvey Specter talked like; the eloquent associate who always had an answer, talked just enough trash, and always, _always,_ got the last word.

The next morning found Donna looking down at a fantastic bouquet of flowers. She looked with bemusement at the array of pink and white orchids, wondering who knew precisely what color and type of flowers she liked. It was all very tastefully arranged in an exquisite glass vase that looked to be more than a little pricey. There was note placed in the center, reading: "Don't push this off your desk, it'll take me a bit longer to clean up" in neat but elegant script

Her head snapped up, eyes narrowing as she scanned the hall. He was leaning on a wall casually chatting with a few of the older partners who seemed to be seriously engaged in whatever he was saying. As the two elder men walked off, apparently discussing whatever he had told them, his gaze slowly shifted to meet her scathing glare. He winked unabashedly, grinning like the Cheshire Cat before strolling back to his computer.

Only when he was safely out of sight did Donna let a smile unfurl across her face.

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><p><strong>Hi people, this is my first fanfiction so any advice you are willing to give please do. Think I may continue with this, maybe even get to a relationship at some point ;)<strong>

**If anyone has any ideas or something they'd like to see, let me know.**

**Thanks!**

**P.S. sorry if this sucks and I just can't tell.**


	2. Chapter 2: Done

**Forgot to put this in the last chapter but I do not own Suits or any of its characters. Don't sue me. Thanks.**

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><p>They said it was the fastest promotion in Pearson Hardman history.<p>

But the disputes were few and far between. As an associate Harvey Specter set records in everything from mock trials to successful pro-bonos. The nights where he wasn't the last one working were rare, but without fail he was crisp in a fresh suit every morning.

There were a couple disgruntled Junior Partners who complained about their new equal, even going so far as to imply that Harvey had slept his way to success. One of these discontents had the extreme misfortune of saying something along those lines within earshot of the man in question. Harvey was quick but merciless in his revenge.

To his credit he did not swear or punch, which is what Donna would have expected from an average male. Instead he went for the slow kill, first explaining quite calmly that he wasn't sleeping with the boss, he was actually quite busy doing…

"What real lawyers call 'work'. I don't believe you are familiar with the term. It involves effort and when you're as good at it as I am you'll see that it ends in something called 'winning', though I know you don't now much about that."

Donna couldn't help but smile at the way Harvey spelled out "winning", as if he was talking to a young child.

At this point the offending Partner was red and sputtering like an overheated kettle, but Harvey was far from finished. He then went on to inform the man that while

"…you may be unfamiliar with the New York laws (which is weird because you are a Manhattan lawyer) but that comment you just made? That counts as harassment. I could sue you, but then again, I'd probably have to sleep with the judge to win. Maybe I'll let Jessica handle it."

The Junior Partner literally winced in fear at the thought of his gossip reaching the boss's ears.

The final blow was sudden but lethal.

"I would warn you not to say anything like that, so on so forth, but I doubt I'll be hearing much from you again,"

The Junior Partner was nothing if not proud and there was a surprising amount of dignity in his tone when he sneeringly inquired.

"Oh? And why is that?"

"Because that bribe you took from Malec Financial (a company Pearson and Hardman was currently suing on behalf of a client) pretty much guarantees you are out of a job here."

The room was already silent as people listened to Harvey with fascination, but the stillness that accompanied these words made undiscovered Egyptian tombs look like Marti Gras.

The change from red to white in his face left little doubt as to his guilt, but then (with a streak of idiocy consistent with what Donna had seen of the man) the soon to be ex-Junior Partner nailed his own coffin shut.

"How did you kn-" The attempt to clamp his mouth shut came much, much too late.

Harvey grinned and Donna was surprised that no flecks of blood speckled his perfect teeth.

"I didn't" With that theatrical statement, inspiring Donna to roll her eyes at his dramatics, he turned in the direction of Jessica's office, ready to claim his new position.

The crowd dispersed in his wake, mostly motivated by a desire to get away from the disgraced Junior Partner who now awaited Jessica's wrath. From what Donna had seen of the woman, her anger was not something you chose to confront. At least, not without a death wish.

Once the chaos from Harvey's step up the corporate ladder died down, Donna thought less of the young lawyer. Of course it was hard to go more than a week without hearing of his success, usually from love-struck secretaries, but Donna had other things to worry about. That's not to say he didn't cross her mind every once in while, when she was particularly bored with whatever mundane assignment Cranford then had her assigned to. But she spent more time concerned with how much longer she would have to put up with Cranford and his wandering eyes.

The question was soon answered, in a way. She supposed it was inevitable, there would eventually come a time when Cranford would cross the line he eyed every single day. It was late, she was tired, at least she must have been to act the way she did. Or maybe not. In reflection Donna would consider other reactions, and then come to the conclusion that there was no other response that would be even close to as satisfying.

She was dropping off the last file, having painstakingly researched and found every single tiny piece of information Cranford required, and then some. She always included the extra data that would then save Cranford's ass when trial rolled around. Donna knew she was practically winning his cases for him, but she figured speaking out was the wrong way to go about it and that eventually someone would have to notice.

This last one had been a headache, requiring all sorts of twists and turns to finally net the answers she needed. So she was not in the best humor when she went to finally make her escape from the hours of filing and research. If Cranford had waited a day or two, the outcome probably would have decidedly different and considerably calmer.

"Donna, wait." She turned reluctantly from the tantalizing doorway and faced her employer.

"Yes?" She kept her tone neutral, despite the temptation to tell him to shove whatever additional work he had in mind up his ass. If it hadn't been so dark around his desk she would have seen the expression on his face and known that work was not what he had in mind.

"I was thinking, maybe we should get to know each other a little better. You have been working for me for six months now and I haven't even gotten a smile. We should be closer than that." His voice was slick, and for a weird moment Donna was reminded of Harvey and his smooth talking. But where Harvey's voice was lilting and persuasive, Cranford's was sickly sweet and reptilian in its slippery tone.

Donna couldn't prevent a flash of disgust from crossing her face at his words and their implied meaning. She fought for control while contemplating the best way to handle such a situation. Unfortunately Cranford was too slow to interpret her expression and took her silence as serious consideration for his proposal. Doing what he thought was capitalizing on an advantage, he moved around his desk and closer to the rigid woman.

"You see," he murmured "You are quite an attractive woman, you could go very far if you worked at it." Donna shivered in repulsion, and again Cranford misread the signs. He made the final, fatal, mistake of putting his hand on her hip.

Donna couldn't help it. She slapped him.

Not full out, across the face the way she would have liked too. She had just enough control to keep her contact limited to the offending hand. Cranford still recoiled in surprise and pain, and then turned back to his secretary.

"You _bitch!" _ He hissed, taking two menacing steps forward until Donna could feel his alcohol tinged breath on her face. He raised a hand to cuff her, but Donna was unexpectedly practiced at defending herself. The next blow was certainly not limited to hands.

Cranford staggered back under her punch, his hand flying to the injured eye. Donna knew the situation was spiraling out of control and while the element of surprise had worked twice, it certainly would not a third time. She turned to leave, and quickly, but the sound of a click made her freeze even without the accompanying command.

"Hold on a second" she could hear the alcohol now in the slur of his speech "I'm not done with you." Donna's sudden rush of adrenaline was the kind you only felt when threatened with a deadly weapon. She grew up in the type of neighborhood where that the sound of a cocked gun was all too well known. She froze immediately, but her mind went into hyper-speed coming up with all sorts of contingencies that her reasonable side knew would never work.

"Done with her? I think you are" She had been so preoccupied, understandably so, that she had failed to hear approaching footsteps. Or maybe he was just good at being quiet. Whichever it was, the immediate rush of relief at the sound of a familiarly smooth voice was astonishing. Then she felt an equally startling amount of panic at the fact that Harvey probably had no idea what he was getting into. She figured he had not a clue how to deal with drunk, gun-wielding idiot. Fortunately, or maybe not, Donna had plenty of practice with men who waved guns around after having a few too many shots, and just as much experience protecting other people from them.

"Harvey," she said, quite proud of her unflustered tone, "Get out of here."

"And leave you defenseless in against an armed assailant. I don't think so." His tone matched hers for casualness, but he was louder, apparently unconcerned with the idea of Cranford over-hearing them.

"And what did you bring for "defense". A sword?" She wasn't expecting his awareness of Cranford's gun, but she still doubted his experience in arms.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you never to bring a knife to a gun fight? Sigs are always more effective than sabers." For the second time that night a click sounded through the firm halls as Harvey brought out his own gun of choice.

Donna was nothing short of amazed. A Harvard grad who knew his way around a gun? It was practically oxymoronic. But there he was, calm and collected, with the black barrel pointed steadily at David Cranford who let loose a squeak of surprise at the sudden power shift.

"David" Harvey enunciated his words carefully, leading Donna to believe he wasn't quite as sure of his situation as he would like her to think. "If you do not put that gun down right now, I will shoot you." There was nothing cautious about his last few words, only cold sincerity. He meant every word.

Cranford whimpered a little and bent to obedience. He laid sidearm on the desk and following Harvey's gestures, walked out the door so Harvey could train the gun on his back.

"Donna. Call security." It wasn't until later that she wondered how he knew her name; at that moment in time she walked over to the phone and dialed.

The man who picked up sounded sleepy, but his weariness faded at her words. He asked a few short questions, then went to rally a few his colleagues and come assess the situation.

Relieved by his apparent competence, she really wasn't up to babying idiots right now, Donna set the phone down and returned to the pair of men at the door. She nodded to Harvey, indicating that security was on its way. He relaxed every so slightly at the news. However experienced a man might be, there was only so long he could be comfortable holding a gun to another guy's back.

The next sequence of events was less eventful and therefore half as clear in Donna's memory. The guards cuffed Cranford with the intent of delivering him to the police station. They informed Donna and Harvey that the whole thing would have to be sorted in the morning. Donna sighed in relief; she would get a night's sleep before that ordeal.

Once the men departed with Cranford in tow, Harvey announced that he would be supplying her with a ride home that night. Donna began to protest, but he cut her off:

"After tonight's excitement I would prefer to ensure that you make it home in one piece. It would be a shame for all that effort to go to waste."

She didn't really have the energy to resist. No part of her particularly wanted to wait in the cold for a potentially rude cab driver. Plus Harvey's way was free.

She gathered her things, met him at the firm entrance and he led her out to the street where a sleek black company car was waiting. Donna supposed he must have called it from his office. Harvey gallantly opened the door for her, and Donna threw him a look of exasperation at such antics. He added a flourishing bow, eyes twinkling, before entering himself.

It was comfortably warm inside, with plush seats that were softer than Donna's couch back home. The driver, Ray, was polite, cordial, and a much more reasonable driver than any New York cabbie. Donna gave him her address and the car moved smoothly away from the curb. Ray asked no questions and Harvey offered no answers about the change from routine. They passed most of the ride in silence, though Donna was sure she felt the Junior Partner's eyes on her as she stared fixedly out the window. She thanked both Ray and Harvey before exiting back out into the crisp night air.

Harvey stopped her before she entered her slightly shabby apartment building.

"Donna, don't worry about tomorrow. I'll speak to Jessica in the morning and make some arrangements." His reassuring tone was genuine; for once he wasn't making jokes. But Donna wasn't about to let the confident lawyer convince himself that he was her saving grace.

"Do I look worried?" She asked pointedly, raising an eyebrow in disdain.

"Yes" He answered cheekily, shutting the door and ordering Ray to drive off before she could form an indignant response. She huffed her irritation, but secretly appreciated his promise. After all, she had not had a clue as to how she was going to resolve her situation the next morning.

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><p><strong>Hey Guys, hope I caught the Cranford harassment scene okay. Whatever review you might feel like writing would be great; positive, negative, both. I'm thinking this is gonna have 4-5 more chapters but I'm nothing close to sure. Any and all ideas appreciated. Thanks for reading!<strong>


	3. Chapter 3: Well Suited

**This one is a bit longer. Sadly I still don't own Suits so still don't sue me.**

Donna woke that morning and for an instant she felt that immediate dread she always did at the thought of another day in Cranford's employ. Then she remembered the events of last night. She missed the dread.

As much as she hated Cranford, she loved working for a law firm. She had always regretted not having enough money to go to the proper school and be an actual lawyer, but she reckoned a secretary was the next best thing. She even enjoyed some of the parts of her job under Cranford. His laziness meant she did the research that was part of being an actual lawyer. But other than that, her job consisted of filing and scheduling. Plus doing the boring paperwork that Cranford actually should have been doing himself. Ever since he had realized that she could do it as well as, if not better than him, she had been covered all those mind-numbing forms.

But it wasn't even the stupid mundane tasks that were the worst of her job; she knew what she was signing up for when she applied. It was what she had to put up with while she did it. Cautious rebuttals, ignoring his suggestive remarks, and carefully maintaining a distance from him and his hands were not things she was expecting when she took the position. It was that more than anything that she dreaded when she woke up every morning.

But it didn't look like she would have to dread it any longer. Donna remembered Harvey's promise to "deal with it" the night before and thought that she must have been pretty tired to accept any form of hope. No one hits, actually full-out punches, a Junior Partner, in the face, and gets off scot-free. Especially not a first-year secretary.

When it came down to it, it would be her word against Cranford's. No way Harvey would back her up in anything resembling a court case, it would come too close to putting his neck on the line and from what she had seen with him that wouldn't happen over something like this. But against all her expectations, just an hour after Donna was thinking this, Harvey would be doing the precise thing she least expected of him.

Naturally, though, he was doing it in the devil-may-care, classic Harvey Specter fashion.

He lounged in a chair in Jessica Pearson's beautiful office, casually explaining the situation:

"So, by the time I came up to him, he was holding his eye which looked like it had been punched rather well," Jessica merely raised an eyebrow at this, not bothering to pursue an explanation. "And he was threatening his own secretary who looked like she wanted nothing more than to be out the door, and preferably in her apartment."

"What kind of threat?" Jessica asked, thinking the whole thing sounded a little melodramatic.

"I believe, don't quote me on this because I'm not positive, but it was something like: 'Hold on a sec, I'm not done harassing you." He paused.

"Actually I don't think he was quite that eloquent, but who needs eloquence when you have a gun?" Both eyebrows shot up in response to this, Harvey had failed to mention previously that the Junior Partner was armed.

"David Cranford? With a gun? Harvey, this whole thing sounds beyond the man. We all know David is a little…" She paused in a search for a diplomatic term.

"Creepy?" Harvey supplied helpfully.

"Peculiar." She glared at him, "And that has been a source of concern in the past. But the man has made himself some room for eccentricities, he has been considerably more effective in the last six months."

"Ah, yes. About that," She looked at him, wondering what evidence he possibly have to refute this. "His uptick in success coincides perfectly with the hiring of his new secretary."

"This came to your attention how?"

"I considered hiring her as my new secretary when I was promoted."

"If she is so proficient, then why didn't you?"

"Cranford needed the help more than I did." Harvey shrugged. "Donna was more effective where she was. I've seen her research. The woman is practically winning her cases for him. Some of the information she finds," He shook his head in admiration. "I'd love to know how she finds her sources"

"None of this explains how David ended up in a situation with a gun."

"Well the gun was a gift from one of his clients." Jessica nodded in agreement, remembering the man who was quite enthusiastic about his NRA membership. "And I guess David was just drunk enough to decide it was a good time to try it out."

"Ah. Drunk." Jessica's face was impassive at the revelation of this small detail.

"Did I forget to mention that?" Harvey's face was the picture of innocence. They both knew the tactic; you fed the audience only bits of information at a time so the final picture was both clearer and more dramatic. Jessica had taught it to Harvey, but that didn't stop it from working on her.

"Well, fortunately for you, the security guards should act as witnesses to back up your story. If," she put emphasis on the word, "Cranford was drunk and armed, then he will most certainly be fired and probably indicted. If not, we will have to deal with the consequences for you and Ms. Steele."

_Steele, _Harvey thought, _well-suited _

The competent security guard had no trouble backing Harvey up in his story. He testified that the man did appear drunk and that they had collected a firearm from the office in case it was needed later for evidence. The whole thing had gone through all the proper channels. All that was left was to speak to Donna

The secretary in question tried to swallow her nervousness as she approached Jessica's magnificent office. A secretary told her upon arrival that she was to immediately report to Ms. Pearson. She had gotten more than one curious look upon the delivery of that news. She reasoned that next to an armed drunk, being fired was nothing, but she didn't understand why they had to dramatize the whole affair by holding it in the head office. Despite her nerves, she approached the office with an impassive expression. Harvey and Jessica were able to watch her arrival through glass doors and both were privately impressed with her control, though neither mentioned it.

"Ms. Steele?" Jessica greeted

"Yes. Am I to assume I am here because of the events of last night?"

_Nothing to do about it_, Donna thought, _If I'm going to be fired I'm not going to put up with bullshit while it happens._

"Yes, that is correct." If Jessica was surprised by her directness, she failed to show it. "Please explain the what happened."

Straightforward as always, Donna ran through what had occurred, not missing a beat when she spoke of the appearance of first Cranford's gun and then Harvey's. Jessica, on the other hand, stopped her and threw a pointed look in Harvey's direction at the mention of his weapon.

"What?" He was nonchalant, "A man's got to protect himself. And any nearby ladies." He winked at Donna, who didn't show any of her surprise at Harvey's casual flirting right in front of his boss.

"Quite." Jessica was apparently imperturbable "And your reasons for not mentioning this were what, precisely?"

"I figured you wouldn't like it."

"Yet you knew I would hear it from Ms. Ryan eventually."

"Better late than never"

She gave up.

"Do make an effort to be honest. I am your boss."

"Technically I did not lie"

Donna followed this semi-serious banter with some bemusement. She had never seen an employer/employee relationship quite like this one. It took her a second (just one) to realize that for Jessica to be angry with Harvey for omitting such a detail, he must have given a statement in the first place.

_He told her what happened. He actually is trying to handle it. _

Jessica dismissed them both from her office, informing them that she would make a decision by the end of the day. Donna was unsure what she was to do until then, given the Cranford was at the police station and likely didn't have any work for her.

_What the hell am I supposed to do now?_

To her surprise Harvey beckoned, indicating she should follow him. Uncertain of what exactly he was after, she followed a few steps behind. They stopped at a gorgeous corner office that was not as roomy or well designed as Jessica's, but still had a full wall of windows that afforded a spectacular view of Manhattan.

Harvey said not a word the entire trip down the hallway and upon reaching his destination, merely pointed at the desk that sat in front of his office.

Donna raised an eyebrow. "Yes? And don't be afraid to use your words," she mocked, purposely using the same tone she adopted for little children.

"Sorry," He insincerely apologized, "I figured you would appreciate the silence, it's a treatment you use so effectively."

She glared at the confident lawyer, "Don't remind me of that particular encounter. I still haven't figured out how they promoted an idiot like you to Junior Partner."

"But Mommy" his voice whined in a perfect imitation of a toddler, "I'm all grown up now."

"Apparently not. And I highly doubt you ever will."

"Anyway, in answer to your original question. That is your new desk."

She could not prevent the flash of shock she felt at these words from her features.

"My new desk? And what about its current inhabitant? That seat does not look big enough for two." Despite her flippant answer, Donna really was curious as to what he meant.

"It doesn't have a 'current inhabitant'" he mocked her choice of words.

"You don't have a secretary?" Donna let more of her real surprise filter into her tone. She was a little worn by the events of the last few hours and was not in a deceptive mindset. Besides, she was astonished that her carefully cultivated gossip network had not fed her that piece of information

"Not a permanent one. I have a temp, but I was in the process of looking for one before this," he gestured at her to indicate his meaning, "happened."

"You make a habit of pulling girls out of bad situations and then making them your secretaries?"

"No usually I interview, but this is much faster. I like to take advantage of a good situation."

"So you are assuming that I'll take the position."

"Its not like you have a ton of options," He pointed out, but continued after she scowled in response. "Do it as a favor to me," he ventured. "I did save you from the clutches of Cranford."

"Nice alliteration" she commented. "And what makes you think I needed saving?"

"The gun pointed at your back was a nice hint. So take the spot in gratitude for me swooping in and rescuing you."

"My knight in shining armor" her voice dripped sarcasm

"I always preferred the James Bond suits over that bulky chain mail."

She smirked "Brosnan you are not."

"Oh thank god, someone who understands who the real James Bond is."

"Who in this firm is unfortunate enough to not comprehend the fact that Pierce Brosnan played that part to perfection?"

"Louis Litt." They grimaced simultaneously at this name, neither bothering to hide their feelings for the distasteful man.

Donna hadn't been there for more than two months before acquiring a total of three pieces of _very _nice blackmail, (for emergencies only of course) and hearing all sorts of juicy gossip about the greatly disliked Junior Partner. Though Louis did win cases, he was otherwise what Donna privately thought of as an anti-Harvey. He lacked good hair, actually hair in general, his voice was whiny, he was short, and he had not a bit of the natural charming eloquence that was characteristic to Harvey Specter.

Harvey himself asked Donna if there was anything she needed for her new position.

"I'm still not sure I have a job." She reminded him of her precarious situation at the firm.

"Every piece of evidence backs us up, I'm not worried." And he clearly wasn't, his laidback posture and blasé tone confirmed his attitude.

"If the outcome is so obvious, then why does Jessica need time to deliberate?" Donna preferred to know where she stood.

"She's always overcautious in these situations. She feels the need to double-check every fact to ensure she's got all the answers. If we were lying I'd be worried, but.." He spread his hands in front of him.

"Imagine that, someone exercising discretion and diplomacy. Must be a foreign concept to you." She teased, a little surprised at how easy it was to joke with him.

"Hey I can be careful!"

"Right. First you rushed into a situation that you knew nothing about and then lied to your boss about it. Where was the care in that exactly?"

"I had a gun when I "rushed" into that situation. And I didn't lie to Jess about it, I just failed to specify that I had aforementioned weapon."

She smiled at him and just shook her head, accepting that he would probably never take anything seriously.

With their conversation finished he informed her that if she needed anything to just ask and entered his office. She chose not to mention that she hadn't officially accepted his offer.

What else was she going to do?

**Hey guys, I read some of your reviews, thank you so much for the compliments and the ideas. A bunch of you said that you would like to hear Harvey's perspective, so I think my next chapter will be something along the lines of him remembering the night. I didn't think of doing something like this, so thanks for the inspiration! It should be up in two or three days.**


	4. Chapter 4: Magic

Harvey sat back and stretched, wincing as he heard the cracks of a stiff back. He was working late, again. He smiled wryly, he had expected everything to get easier after his promotion, but he found himself staying as long as always if not later. He just couldn't put the cases down unless he was absolutely sure he had done everything he could that day. And she was always there with him.

Then he was smiling again, looking out through his glass doors at the curtain of red-blonde hair that shielded Donna's perfectly made up face. He'd hired her with the knowledge that she was resourceful and brilliant with research, but some of the information she came up with….It was beyond him. Of course, he had tried to get her to spill more than once, but she had just grinned that beautifully lopsided grin and told him:

"Come on, Harvey. A magician never reveals her tricks. That just ruins the fun."

_I guess I didn't quite know what I was getting into, _He thought. _But I should've figured, given how it all started._

He lost the grin as he remembered just how her employment had begun. He'd never told anyone, not Jessica, and especially not _her,_ how scared he had been. Sure, he acted confident, but he always acted confident. No matter what, that was his shield. But damn had he been scared. Not really for himself, he'd had his Sig, but for her. Donna had been defenseless, alone, and a drunk was pointing a gun at her back. Any other secretary would have broken down into tears and probably gotten shot.

_But then, she isn't any other secretary. Nothing close._

She had been calm, as calm as he had been. She punched a Junior Partner in the face after he sexually harassed her, and then had her back turned to that same man plus his gun. But for all he could tell, she might've been watching a sunset. He shook his head, grinning for a moment and then losing it again as he wondered what kind of experience she must have had to be that composed in such an insane situation. Neither of them spoke much about their past, a mutual understanding existed that it was easier that way. But he still wondered how a woman grew up to have that much control. And he wanted to know if firecracker wit ran in the family. Maybe her brilliance was in the genes.

_And I almost lost her, before she was found._

He would kick himself a million times for not just hiring her the second he got promoted. He just didn't think that Cranford would go that far.

_Idiot, _he thought, not sure if he was talking about himself or Cranford.

It was one of the reasons he'd been so scared. There had been that fear that she would get hurt and it would be his fault because he had done what was "best for the firm" and left her in the hands of a creep. He felt his stomach tighten in anger at the thought of David Cranford. The man was one twisted bastard. The way he menaced Donna was just sick, "I'm not done with you yet". The words played back in Harvey's mind and he shuddered to think what would have happened if he hadn't been there. At the time it hadn't taken most of his self-control not to just shoot the man on sight. The fact that he probably could have talked himself out of it had not helped his restraint.

_I'll never risk her again._

Three months later and he still felt guilty.

_And what a three months it has been. _

She wasn't really a secretary. Magic was more like it. Their first full day had been memorable. On his desk when he arrived was a cup of coffee somehow steaming hot, exactly the way he liked it, and from his favorite café down the street. He never got this coffee unless he picked up himself. He turned to look at her desk but she was busily typing and putting away files. He was settled at his desk and just starting to organize the papers from his current case, when she walked in. He looked, only raising his eyebrows to show his surprise at her entrance. She waited a beat at the entrance, (a habit that would disappear within the week) and moved forward once he nodded.

"The Markham briefs from Harry (an associate he had assigned them to a week ago), and this is the information you wanted on Alex Nealan (the man Harvey was currently suing for corporate embezzlement)." She handed him the papers, which were organized to the point of perfection, and asked,

"Anything else?"

"Not right now." He said, slightly bemused by her efficiency. "Wait, hold on a sec"

She turned back towards his desk.

"I only gave you the research assignment last night. How did you find all this in less than a day? This is damning proof, and you found it overnight. How?"

She merely smiled and put a finger to her lips. He grinned and understood the fruitlessness of that sort of question.

"O.K. clearly never going to get an answer there. Alright, Markham briefs. I happen to know that first of all, Harry never gets anything done in less than a week; and two, he is out sick today. So how did you get them to my desk."

"Email is hardly a recent invention"

"That does not answer part one" She grinned and it was so sexy Harvey was sure it was illegal.

"He's a young impressionable associate. It was not that hard to convince him."

Harvey was suddenly quite worried that a woman could look that good when talking about threats.

_Hell, _he decided, _it's a woman after my own heart. _

Watching that red hair, thinking back on the first months, Harvey realized what had happened. She had gotten to him.

_Goddamn, it's been a while since that happened._

Harvey didn't really do close relationships. He hadn't been one for hanging out in high school, for one he was too busy trying to get the money together for college. Besides, the other guys had been interested in sex and football. Harvey knew a fair amount about both, but he didn't feel the need to talk about it for hours on end. His first real friend hadn't come along until Jessica had found him and taken him under her industrial-strength wing. But even then she hadn't turned into anything more than a mentor until he was more of an equal than student.

Maybe it was his definition that was off. Harvey didn't consider a person a friend until he trusted them absolutely; and most didn't last the trial of proving their loyalty. Donna had passed the test in record time and with flying colors. Naturally. She had exactly what he needed, exactly when he needed it.

He had come to anticipate this level of perfection, but every once in a while she would pull information out of thin air. He had a feeling her web of sources was bigger than anyone knew. He was aware she literally had ears in every corner of the firm, but she also came up with material on businesses, other firms, even an occasional governmental employee. He was beginning to wonder if she was CIA at some point.

He stopped asking for her source by her second week, it was a waste of his breath. By her first month he started showing his appreciation instead. Just as he came to anticipate occasional pieces of information, Donna would come to expect an expensive bottle of wine or jewelry when her findings were particularly important to the case. Harvey knew when credit was due, and he was sure to give it.

So the months ran on, and everyone noticed the slight change in Harvey. He was still that calculating, flawlessly dressed, smooth-talker he'd always been, but he was just a little quicker with the smile and a little faster with the joke. Especially around his new secretary. By the end of the first month rumors were flying, but they were quickly squashed by the three scariest people in the firm: Jessica, Harvey, and Donna. The two partners were both privately impressed by how quickly Donna had built herself a reputation. Harvey had a better clue than most as to how she'd done it; he figured blackmail. Given her ability to size people up at a moment's notice, he reckoned she had picked out the ringleaders, and then _convinced _them to change their tune. Donna could be very persuasive.

Now of course, the associates, the secretaries, the techs, even some of the partners (though they would never admit it) feared that mock serious expression and the inevitable takedown that came after it. Somebody had said once that her reputation had gotten ahead of her and that her bark was worse than her bite. There was a short silence that came as everybody checked over the shoulders to ensure that she wasn't about to jump out and get them.

Then another man said,

"That may be true, but her bite is still poisonous"

* * *

><p><strong>Hey thanks for the idea reviewers, I had fun writing this one. So if you did like it, let me know because I'm thinking about writing one from Donna's POV. If you didn't like it, be honest I'd appreciate it, and I'll write about something else. <strong>

**Thanks!**


	5. Chapter 5: An Education in Harvey

Donna glanced up from her work to see the back of a handsome suit, tailored to fall perfectly across Harvey's muscled shoulders. She smiled, remembering how jealous other associates had been of his expensive clothing. She rather thought they were less envious of the suits and more so of the amount of women such fashion attracted. Donna had to admit, even she couldn't fail to entertain the occasional thought about Harvey and his good looks. Everything about the man dripped sex appeal: his jokes, his eyes, even his hair. It was out of control.

But there were more than enough good looking men in New York . Donna wasn't one to gloat (ok maybe she was) but most of these men were more than willing to take her on a date.

The problem with these suave guys was that they were shallow. Flat, really. There wasn't much too them. Most people probably saw them as ultimate success stories: handsome, rich, and charming. Harvey was all that and then there was his wit, cutting edge intelligence, and brilliant sense of what people where thinking. And, as much as he might like to deny it, he also had an overwhelming devotion to whatever he set his mind to. Harvey went all out for his clients and even further for friends. Given that in three months Donna had already figured out more about him than most people did over a decade, she was safely classified as the latter. The only area she drew a blank on was his past, but that was more out of respect than anything else. She knew that Harvey wanted her in his past about as much as she wanted him in hers. Some things are just better left alone.

The best part about the whole was that Harvey didn't treat her like a secretary or even like an associate. When Harvey asked her what she thought he wasn't looking for agreement, he wanted an honest opinion. And if he didn't ask for her thoughts she gave them to him anyway. He never brushed her off or played the Seniority card. He wasn't exactly _willing _to admit he was wrong, but he at least considered the possibility.

_And that's more than I can say for some of these lawyers._

Sometimes Donna thought Harvey hired her just _because_ she talked back. Sometimes, when he was bored with a case, Harvey would come out under some pretense and start something between them for pure entertainment. He would walk over, make a joking insult, and they were off. Both were too proud to actually raise their voice, but make no mistake, they took their repartee seriously. It got quite competitive sometimes. Once they had made the mistake of starting up in the office lounge and quite a crowd gathered before the pair realized what a scene they were making. Harvey told Donna that Jessica had teased him about it later:

"Looks like you finally met your match"

Donna sniffed imperiously and told him that she was insulted by Jessica's mistake.

"Your match? More like your superior."

That had led to a whole other round of back and forth. Donna no longer dragged herself out of bed, dreading a day of boredom and roving eyes. Instead she was the feared secretary of one of the best lawyers in the firm, one of the best lawyers in New York, really.

_It didn't take him long to prove that._

Donna had gone happily enough into the employment, but also the cynical view that Harvey's reputation was likely exaggerated. As rare as the incidents were, this was one of the few areas in which Donna was readily willing to admit mistake.

It wasn't just that he had a natural instinct for finding loopholes and getting what he wanted, Harvey threw himself headlong and with no restrictions into every case he picked up. Donna knew if she stood out on the street at 9:00 any day of the week, a soft glow would highlight as single window in the towering building of Pearson and Hardman.

But she wasn't out on the street, she was in the office, working every second as late as he did. And instead of watching the light from his lamp, she would glance up to check that the mop of brown hair was still bent over some legal file. Usually jazz played in the background, Ellington or Davis. The music was the only thing breaking the silence that occupied every other corner of the almost empty firm. Harvey stayed later than everyone, even most of the associates.

Donna got used to this routine, she came to understand which nights he would be staying so late that she should get him an extra cup of coffee, which nights he would need her company just so he could lose some of the stress; and she understood which nights were completely different. The nights where the jazz was quieter and the light was dimmer. She would look up from her papers to find Harvey abandoning his paperwork in favor of contemplating the view from his beautiful office. Once she noticed he wasn't working, she gave up too. She would type meaninglessly on her computer, but really she watched out of the corner of her eyes. She wanted so badly to know what he was thinking, and sometimes she was inches from just getting up and asking. But there was something about his face, a distance in his eyes, that made her think twice. So instead she stifled her curiosity, even if it was the kind of mystery that keeps a girl up at night.

_But when it gets to what Grandmama would call the "wee hours of the morning", I put my foot down. Hard._

Donna knew when Harvey hit his limit; hell it was pretty damn near hers. To her credit she didn't actually say anything. With serenity she simply walked to his closed door, opened it, and then returned to her desk to pack. He usually responded by mimicking her preparations for exit. If he didn't she very conspicuously stood outside of his door, tapping her foot if necessary, until he stiffly gathered his things. They often said very little on their way out, but never once had she left the firm without him thanking her.

She knew it was likely little more than a formality to him, but without fail that thanks got to her. It warmed her heart, sent a shiver down her spine, put butterflies in her stomach; whatever cliché worked best. It was just a little something that meant more to her than it should.

_Ah well, what's a girl to do?_

* * *

><p><strong>Hey guys, thanks for the reviews I really appreciate it. Thinking of maybe introducing a new character next chapter. (three guesses who!) so review if you are feeling the love. And sorry this update is a little later than usual, i had a b***h of an english paper due.<strong>_  
><em>


	6. Chapter 6: Morons, Winks, & Stupid Rules

**Note: I took some direct quotes and used the plot line from the pilot episode here. I do NOT own Suits or any of its characters. **

**Btw this episode scene is absolutely classic so if this fic makes you want to go back and see it again I recommend doing so. It's own youtube and I can't post the link but the video is called: "Best scene of Suits [HD]", uploaded by PURE162**

* * *

><p>Donna quite honestly felt like she was pounding her head against a brick wall.<p>

_No, make that titanium. Reinforced titanium._

Never having conducted interviews before, Donna had been under the impression that the average Harvard Law grad was at least vaguely intelligent. She wasn't anticipating anyone up to Harvey's standards, but some sort of intellect was expected. If the guys she was dealing with were smart in any way, it was the kind of smart that memorized textbooks. It was definitely not the smart that got a guy anywhere in a firm like Pearson-Hardman.

But she had come into the interviews with the misinformation that Harvard lawyers were all smart and charming. So when Harvey instructed her to give the applicants a rough time, she had anticipated some decent banter.

Not even close.

Donna:

"_What is wrong with you? You look like you're 11 years old."_

Moron/Applicant #1:

"_I was late to puberty"_

Donna:

"_What makes you think I'm going to let the whitest man that I have ever seen interview for our firm?"_

Second Moron/Applicant #2:

"_Because I have an appointment"_

Donna was certain she could come up with a better response if someone was holding her over the edge of a cliff when they asked.

Donna liked her wink, she was proud of the elegant flourish she had perfected. Harvey had informed her that she should make use of the gesture if anyone responded to her insults with something "interesting". At this point, Donna was willing to wink if someone told a knock knock joke.

_Come on now people, this is really the best Harvard has to offer?_

Donna was beginning to wonder whether or not the idiocy of these responses was contagious and she was getting stupider by just sitting there. Then a guy, decidedly unHarvard-like in appearance, burst haphazardly into the room. He was out of breath and his blue eyes were wide in an emotion that was not entirely unwarranted given his situation: panic.

Well, he _was_ 5 minutes late when it was customary to be 30 minutes early. Donna eyed the disheveled hair, rumpled suit, and half unbuckled briefcase with only slightly less disdain then the other applicants.

_What the hell?_

Giving him a rough time was even easier than it had been with the other idiots. Eyebrows arched in disdainful question, mouth set in an unforgiving line, tone dripping with deriding scorn, and Donna was all but punching him with her contempt. But for some reason he looked more confused than intimidated by her treatment. Maybe he was on a new level of stupid and failed to understand the hopelessness of his prospects. And then a response came that either showed a great sense of sarcasm or a really screwed up life.

"I'm just trying to ditch the cops. I don't really care if you let me in or not."

_Huh_

Whether or not she took him seriously was irrelevant (though her instinct was to believe him). This was still the most interesting thing said to her in last two hours. Hell, probably in the last two days. (Harvey's revelation about his preference for boxers over briefs three days ago was more noteworthy.) Anyways, it definitely qualified for a wink.

Less than a minute after "Rick Sourkan" walked his bemused self through the door to Harvey, a valet charged through the doors. He turned in wild circles in the reception, almost as if he was…

…_looking for someone who got away._

It all clicked and Donna resisted the urge to glance at the interview room. For some reason she was on Rick's side today and looking at the doors would have been a dead giveaway. Instead she asked the "valet" if she could "help him with anything". What she really meant was: I don't think you have a good reason for being here, get the hell out.

He did.

Harvey went to Harvard; he knew a lot of the graduates were more like robots and less like legitimately intelligent people. He just didn't remember it being this bad.

The associates answered his questions like they were reading from a textbook, when he gave the example situations they gave him standardized answers. He was beginning to wonder whether they learned anything about actually being lawyers or if they just spent the last four years memorizing information. Harvey didn't give a damn if they could recite every law ever passed in United States history. He wanted a guy that could think on his feet and use whatever he learned to make the kind of arguments that won cases.

He was beginning to wonder if there were any vaguely intelligent people out in the waiting room, when Donna released him from his misery.

Harvey had always loved Donna's wink. He thought it was just the right mix of cute and sexy. It also meant he and Donna knew something everyone else didn' though the wink had gone from a subtle flirtation to a saving grace**.** Never had one eyelid closing meant so much. Harvey had to wonder what had been said to impress the queen of comebacks.

Whatever he had been expecting, "Rick Sourkan" was not it. The guy came in, hair tousled, eyes wide, and an oddly bemused expression on his face. Harvey had told Donna he was looking for "another me". This kid looked more like an anti-Harvey.

Then the briefcase spilled open and packets of green spilled out. It had been so long since Harvey was close to it, that he took a second before recognizing it as pot.

_Ok, what the hell? _

In a complete panic the kid bent and pointlessly attempted to gather all the drugs back into the suitcase, stumbling over excuses the entire time. Harvey stopped him, trying keep from smiling at the "criminal's" bumbling actions.

He got the kid, Mike Ross, into a chair and calmed down enough to explain his story. Even as he was pulled into the almost surreal chain of events, Harvey took note of Mike's natural ability to captivate an audience. It was the kind of thing that was hard to teach but vital to know. Half a lawyer's job was story telling anyway. This particular story was like something out of a crime show.

In any other situation Harvey would say the speaker was full of it. But the whole thing seemed a little seamless for an on-the-spot lie. Plus, Mike had a whole briefcase of evidence to support his side of things.

The oral skills alone put Mike a few steps ahead of the other applicants. His story proved that the kid could think, and quickly. Even if it was a fabrication, it still meant the kid's brain moved fast enough to make up a believable story under pressure and without hesitation.

Unfortunately…

"Not only did you not go to Harvard, you haven't gone to any law school." Harvey pretty much thought that was it.

"What if I told you I consume knowledge like no one you've ever met and I've actually passed the bar?"

Harvey's glance brimmed with skepticism:

"I'd say you were full of shit"

A tinge of desperation came into Mike's cobalt eyes and he looked around him until his gaze rested on the fat law book squatting on Harvey's desk.

"Read me something from it. Anything."

The kid's confidence was hard to argue, but the older lawyer had a lifetime's worth of cynicism that said the whole thing was a crock of shit. Willing to play along, he started reading. Then Mike finished his sentence.

The kid actually finished Harvey's sentence as the lawyer read from some random section in a several thousand page book of law.

_Christ. _

Harvey's competitive nature flared.

"Alright, time to show you what a Harvard lawyer can do. Fire up that laptop."

But even as Harvey recited what should have been a bulletproof application of law, Mike had a correction. Even worse (or better) that correction was brilliant. And Mike didn't even use the computer. The kid did exactly what the average Harvard robot couldn't: he used what he knew in an actual situation. What Harvey couldn't figure out was how the guy learned so much in the first place.

"I told you I read…"

_Right, so do I. But I'm one of the best lawyers the firm has and somehow a kid who never even went to law school knows more legislation than I do. _

"…and once I read something I understand it. And once I understand it, I never forget it."

_He has a photographic memory. That could come in handy. _

Then reality came crashing back in and Harvey recognized the situation for what it was. A fantasy.

"Sorry kid. This is fascinating and everything, but I have to get back to work."

As Harvey turned back to the doors to call the next applicant in, he realized what "work" meant. Work was more hours of mind-numbing interviews that at best would yield an associate half as smart as Mike. At best.

Harvey poked his head out the door and looked at the crowd of Harvard graduates. Empty stares, empty heads…

Empty suits.

They were mindless robots could spout bills and statutes and codes, but the crowd of Harvard grads that milled about in the reception couldn't win a case if Harvey wrote them a script.

_Unfortunately the operative phrase in that description is "Harvard grad"._

As he weighed risk and reward Harvey's eyes fell on Donna, who was observing his pensive expression with curiosity. She reminded him that it wasn't his practice to accept anything less than the best. It just so happened that in this case the best didn't come with a Harvard Law diploma.

_But who thought of that stupid requirement anyway? _

Harvey was always up for bending a few rules. Besides, in some small corner of the heart whose existence he constantly denied, Harvey wanted to give this kid a chance.

So he turned back around to make it clear to Mike just what the newly hired associate was getting into.

What _they_ were getting into.

* * *

><p><strong>Hey people this chapter wasn't really DonnaHarvey, but I didn't really want to write a Suits fic without Mike. Now I'm thinking maybe i should go longer with this fic, maybe add some dramatic angst or exciting plot. (Kidnapping, shooting etc) Or should I just spend a chapter establishing the Mike-Harvey-Donna dynamic and then go straight into a Donna/Harvey relationship? Review if you got an opinion on which I should be going with or anything you think I should be fixing. **

**Thanks!**


	7. Chapter 7: A Room With a View

A wonderfully bitter aroma seeped into a quiet office air. By the time Harvey tore his tired eyes away from the tortuously complex file, the mug of coffee and its tantalizing column of steam had already appeared in front of him.

"I've said it once and doubtless I'll say it again. Donna you are an angel." He smiled up at his wonderful secretary who hid her pleasure at the compliment behind raised eyebrows.

"With this hair? I don't think so. My mother always told me angels have pale blonde hair. Blue eyes too. Looks like I don't make the cut."

Harvey didn't press the point, but he could tell there was more to that story. He also knew there were some places that shouldn't be revisited. After all, they said there was no better teacher than experience.

"Well, you're _my_ angel. And I think red hair is beautiful." His tone was casual, and he lifted his coffee as he spoke so Donna missed the anxious tightening around his eyes. She probably wouldn't have seen it anyway; she was too busy trying to keep a lid on the emotional overreaction that his words rather inconveniently had the power to provoke.

_I really need to do something about this, _she thought, irritated with her high school reactions, _its getting out of hand. _

She didn't kiss him until he couldn't breathe like she wanted to, but Donna couldn't keep a smile from brightening her face as she took her accustomed spot on the couch. Figuring a change of subject was in order, she informed him of his associate's status.

"Mike's still here you know."

He rubbed a hand over a face lined with exhaustion and stress.

"Stupid kid, I told him to go home. He doesn't sleep enough."

"Aw Harvey. That almost sounded like concern."

He glared the same way he always did when someone suggested he had emotions.

"You know me better. But this is a big case and knowing the puppy he'll probably pass out and spill coffee in the middle of negotiations."

"As long as you remember that the negotiations wouldn't even be happening if it weren't for him. You have to admit, his brain is pretty amazing."

Harvey's face softened and he didn't need to tell her she was right. The conversation drifted into cozy silence as the two sat, content to just be.

Donna gazed out at the gorgeous view of Manhattan nightlife that Harvey's wall of windows afforded. Her smile faded and her face slipped into the mask no one had ever been able to read.

Harvey ignored the view, preferring to examine the nuances in Donna's angular face. He skimmed over her defined cheekbones, noted the impenetrable depth of her eyes, and mentally traced her soft lips. He found himself dwelling on the lips, lingering on the dips and curves.

_Snap out of it Specter. She's not interested._

He had never gone so far as to actually ask her out, but he knew how Donna felt about mixing the professional and the personal. Dealing with David Cranford for six months was enough to put a woman off men period, never mind office romance. More cautious around her than anyone else, he downplayed the flirting and made sure he let nothing slip. He wouldn't risk losing her over a relationship he'd probably screw up anyway.

For once in her life, Donna was oblivious. Unaware of Harvey's surveillance, she stared out the window, lost in internal debate. It wasn't just David Cranford, she had never been one for mixing professional with personal.

_Relationships in the office are practically the definition of complicated._

Actually if she was being honest, any relationship was just a little too much.

_Too much what? _

She stifled the nagging voice in the back of her head. It was best her wariness of romance not be examined too closely. It wasn't like there weren't men in her life; they just weren't there for long. She wasn't at Harvey's level with a new woman every week, relationships that lasted a night, maybe less. Mentally changing the subject after refusing to recognize the little twinge in her stomach as jealousy, Donna thought about Mike.

Harvey kept up his careful examination of Donna and he couldn't help but wonder what she was thinking about when her features softened. Her face relaxed into an expression that was still unreadable but without the hardness that made him feel like he was examining at an iron wall. A beautiful iron wall, but closed off and cold nonetheless. He figured the only person that could put any kind of a dent in Donna's perfected suit of emotional armor was Mike.

Harvey had never shared the thought with Donna, for fear of getting seriously injured, but he was inclined to think that Mike had managed to evoke the secretary's maternal instincts. The way she went after the associates who harassed him, the way she scolded Harvey when she thought the senior partner was too hard on his associate... Harvey smiled and shook his head. Best of all was when she worried over him. He had to resist the urge to tease her about her fretting over his sleep patterns and diet.

_Mother hen, _he thought, a metaphor that he would not admit to entertaining even under intense torture. _Mike is the only one who could get that kind of reaction out of her._

Up to a point Harvey was right. It was Mike that found the tiny chink in Donna's self made protection, but it was not only the effect the new associate had on her, it was also the one he had on Harvey.

Everyone saw the way Harvey pushed Mike to do and be more than any other associate. What they didn't see was the total weak spot the older lawyer had for his protégé. Donna had teased him about him once, after he pulled Mike out of yet another situation.

"You're going soft Harvey."

"Soft? Me? Please."

"Like a pillow. Honestly next thing you know you're going to be helping old ladies across the street."

"We live in New York City. If I tried to help an old lady across the street she'd probably sue me for sexual harassment."

"True. Or at least consider you insane. But you have to admit, Mike's different."

"Different? Of course he's different. The kid has a computer for a brain."

"That's not what I mean and you know it. We've both seen what he gets like when he finds that one piece of information that cracks the case wide open. He really cares. And you know why that gets to you? You do too."

He had sputtered his typical indignation at the suggestion that he had a heart, but the denial just didn't do it for Donna. Because for every time she saw Mike's eyes light with that fire, there were 100 times she had seen it in Harvey.

Donna snapped out of her flashback suddenly, with the embarrassing realization that she had no idea how long she had been lost in her own head. She turned to find Harvey suspiciously focused on the records so neatly arranged on his wall. He was very conspicuously examining some of his best jazz and determinedly not looking at her. She narrowed her eyes as she came to the conclusion that he had been watching her and now clearly did not wish her to know that he had been watching. Too bad she could read Harvey like a book.

She debated whether or not to call him out on it, deciding she wouldn't because she really didn't want to spend anymore time thinking about how it made her feel.

Harvey started to his feet suddenly, reaching for a particular record. Donna watched him curiously as he strode with purpose to the sleek record player that occupied a space in the corner. An unfamiliar jazz tune soon floated through the air and Harvey turned to Donna, a peculiar look in his eye. Something sounded in the back of her mind, a sense of familiarity. She'd seen that look somewhere. Harvey had turned back to the window, hiding his face from her for several minutes before her brain clicked.

Alex Donovan. Senior year in high school. Donna wasn't much for "the good old days" nostalgia. She remembered the four years as a bundle of stress, pressure, and terror of being different. That last made it all the harder for her because of course she was different. A sense of sarcasm that left classmates and the occasional adult frowning in confusion; a first-rate intellect that put her at the top of her class; a discipline that rivaled military personnel; Donna was light years ahead of her peers. She was closer to her teachers' level than anyone else's.

So Donna didn't have a lot of these special high school memories others her age were inclined to obsess over. But she did remember Alex Donovan, senior prom, and the look in his eyes when he asked her to dance. It was the same look Harvey had minutes ago when he turned on the stereo.

_Shit. _

Donna didn't freak out; it was just something that didn't happen. But now, like a 16 year old, she was flipping over a guy wanting to dance with her. Worse, she wasn't even sure that he _did _want to dance. It wasn't like she could ask for clarification.

She had made it clear to Harvey that no sort of relationship would be possible in the office. She saw something flash in his eyes as she dropped her subtle comments and knew he thought David Cranford was to blame. Little did he realize Donna was drop-dead terrified of the havoc emotions wreaked on her control. But despite all her efforts, here she was, absolutely losing it. Over a dance.

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><p><strong>Sorry for the cut off, but I need to decide how far I want to go with next part of this scene. Or if there <strong>_**is **_**going to be a next part. I'm also considering leaving this hanging and going to a Mike/Rachel conversation about Harvey and Donna. That kind of chapter would probably end with a kiss between our young associate and paralegal couple. Which do you think? Harvey/Donna dance or Mike/Rachel conversation about the depths of their bosses' relationship? Or both? **

**Review if you have a preference, please. Either way next chapter should be up in three or four days.**

**Thanks!**


	8. Chapter 8: FreeFall

**NOTE: I have used some pieces of real Suits plot, but the events are not consistent with the real timeline. So even though some of the events took place near the finale, I do not have anything about Mike's secret being revealed. While some events are here, I'm writing like others never happened. Just roll with it.**

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><p>"Mike? Hello, earth to Mike? Anybody home?"<p>

"Huh? What?" Only with some effort did Mike manage to pull himself out of the brown depths that were Rachel's eyes**.**

_Damn it. I spaced again._

She was going to start to think he was back on pot if he didn't stop imagining what it would be like to kiss those beautiful, pouty, lips…

_Ugh. Stop, stop, stop!_

It had always been a bit of a problem. Rachel was far and away the hottest girl he had ever met. Sometimes he was so distracted by how unbelievably gorgeous she was, he had trouble keeping up with her. And so now, as she led him through an explanation of the finance of his and Harvey's newest case, he was completely lost.

She eyed him with an amused look.

"You so cannot, handle this right now."

"What! I can too."

His protests were mainly spurned by a desire to spend more time with her. Ever since he and Jenny fell into little itty-bitty pieces three months ago, Rachel had gone from tempting to nearly irresistible. They had let the topic of their first kiss die, but Mike kept remembering it at the most inconvenient times. Like right now.

"No you are _way_ too distracted."

Swallowing was suddenly very difficult. He wanted to ask what she meant, but getting the words out was a little too hard.

"You really shouldn't skip lunch. You get so spacey when you don't eat for hours."

He sat back in sudden relief at her explanation, and then realized there was some truth to her words.

_I am a little hungry…_

"We should really do something about that."

"We?" Her question came with a raised eyebrow.

"Come on, I hate eating take out alone. It's so depressing."

"True…"

"I'll pay for your sushi." He wheedled, knowing she had a weird soft spot for raw fish.

Her resolve disappeared. "Fine."

_Bribery will get you everywhere._

Mike was oblivious to the fact that it would take much less persuasion than free sushi to get the paralegal to spend extra time with her favorite associate.

_If only he wasn't so cute. And funny. And smart. And considerate._

Rachel sighed, until now her 'no office romance' rule hadn't been a problem. But then Mike had come along, and he had proved himself to be the total opposite of the normal jerk associates she dealt with. His puppy demeanor was cute, but he also had the makings of a lawyer as good as Harvey behind those blue puppy eyes. Mike had the most amazing brain she'd ever worked with, and he had this unfailing ability to root out tiny piece of evidences that broke cases wide open. Best of all he didn't do it to impress Jessica and further his own career; he did it for his clients. He was completely devoted to them, in such a way that even his eyes reflected the intensity of his determination to do anything and everything to help the people that needed it.

Right now those blue eyes sparkled with excitement, she grinned at the idea that food provoked such enthusiasm. Rachel remembered when she could get the same reaction out of him…

Then her emotional discipline squashed the thought. She already turned him down once, and then she had flirted with him for months, then kissed him- while he was dating another girl- and finished off the drama by fighting with him. Their balance was shaky enough without her doing something to rock the boat.

_And he is still with Jenny. _She remembered. _Though he hasn't mentioned her in ages…_

Again her mental foot came down to crush that line of thinking. Mike was off-limits, that was that. Of course, that didn't mean she couldn't spend some time with him. As friends.

Stifling that inner voice that told her to stop lying to herself, Rachel took Mike's hand as he courteously helped her to her feet.

The pair exited Pearson-Hardman's handsome front lobby in favor of the chilled night air. Looking all the world like another of Manhattan's young couples, they talked and laughed their way down cold streets. Mike led Rachel to her favorite sushi bar, a little place that was tucked into a darker alley and had only the simplest of decorations. But it made up for its dank appearance with the some of the best sushi that could be bought on an associate's salary. The owner knew Rachel well by now and had met Mike on more than one occasion. Whenever the pair arrived the man and his wife held a rapid-fire conversation in Japanese. Little did Mike and Rachel know that they were debating the couple's relationship status.

This time when they ordered, Mike chose one of the more exotic dishes Rachel had only recently coaxed him into trying. Only hesitantly had he tasted it, but he was far less reluctant to devour the rest of the dish.

"See?" the paralegal gloated, "I told you it was great."

Mike nodded in agreement, willing to admit her success.

"You gotta understand," he pointed out. "I didn't grow up around raw fish and seaweed. Until I met you, exotic food meant sauerkraut on your hotdog."

She smiled, but privately she wanted to know more about Mike and his childhood. He didn't talk about it much, clearly avoiding painful memories, and Rachel couldn't help but wonder what had happened exactly. 'Car crash' was the most detail she had ever gotten about the death of his parents. But Mike looked uncomfortable with even this slight mention of his past, so as they left for the dubious comfort of his apartment, she quickly changed the subject.

"Hey, I was in Harvey's office the other day, helping Donna." She skated over the details, noticing the curious gleam in his eye. She really didn't want to tell him that she had been asking the wise secretary for advice on Mike and how to deal with their kiss.

"Anyway, don't tell Harvey, but she showed me some of the stuff in his office. Have you ever taken a look at his collection? One of those basketballs is probably worth more than my wardrobe."

Mike grinned, "Yeah, I asked him once what the best part was about being a lawyer. I got a classic Harvey response."

"What'd he tell you?"

"The autographed baseball he got from Derek Jeter."

Rachel laughed, "Sounds like Harvey."

"Yea. I'm surprised Donna let you near his stuff. He gets kinda OCD about his office."

"Oh, she only let me touch some of it. Just the stuff she said he wouldn't care about."

"She would know. I reckon Donna knows him better than anyone."

"Yeah." Rachel waggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Do you think they-"

Mike's response cut her off. "No."

"Why not?"

"Because Harvey does one night stands. Not relationships." He was certain.

"And Donna couldn't be a one night stand" She caught on to his line of thinking. "Yeah, I see that."

"If he ever had guts enough to ask her…" The associate trailed off, his eyes shifted away and he was clearly somewhere else.

"You think a relationship between them would work?" Rachel's query brought him back to the present.

"Yea. I think they would be happy. Happier than they are alone, and happier than they could be with anyone else." He was back with her now. There was a new look in his eyes and a new tone in his words.

Rachel looked back at him, and maybe it was the dim light that filled the hall outside of his apartment, but her eyes seemed darker than their normal shade of chocolate. They went inside in silence, and there was a new palpability to the tension that always seemed to exist around them.

Mike doled out the food, and as he took his spot next to Rachel, a new question struck her.

"Wouldn't it be awkward in the office though? You know, if Harvey and Donna had a relationship outside of work?" To her own ears it sounded like the second half of her question had been added as more of an afterthought, but she was well-practiced in pushing such inconvenient ideas aside.

Mike pondered for a moment. "That's the thing, I don't think that much would change. They're already as close as a pair can get in the office. They would just spend more time together outside of work. They already go out to dinner every once in a while." He grinned, "I think it's Harvey's way of apologizing."

"Apologizing for what?" This piqued her interest. It wasn't often the great Harvey Specter deemed an apology necessary.

"For whatever he's done to piss Donna off. They fight more than people realize. It's just not that serious most of the time. Usually it's because one is just too stubborn to back down and admit they're wrong."

"Admitting you're wrong about something is hard." Rachel spoke slowly, weighing her words, unsure whether or not she wanted to Mike to realize what she was really saying. "Especially if it is something, someone you care about."

She wanted to run, this was the part she really hated. The part where you had to let yourself go.

_No, it's more than that._

It was like you had to push yourself off a cliff; a really, really, high cliff. And you hoped someone would catch you, but there were no guarantees, no real assurance. You didn't know what was coming until it was too late to change your mind. Even though she really, really, wanted to run back into that dim hallway and out onto the cold streets, Rachel wanted to say this more. So she took a breath, got herself a running start, and leapt into freefall.

"I was wrong about the no office-dating rule Mike. I wish I'd never said it. Never said no."

She looked down, as strong as she was, she wasn't sure she could take seeing rejection or worse, pity on Mike's face.

_Oh god, what the hell did I just do? _

Rachel kept her face carefully blank, but the silence stretched on and she felt like a skydiver without a parachute, plummeting towards the inevitable ground.

Then Mike caught her mid-fall. Figuratively, of course. What he really did was kiss her.

Technically they had kissed before, but that one had taken Mike by surprise. This one was a no holds-barred, full-blown, incredibly hot kiss.

Rachel was literally frozen with shock for a moment, before physical instincts kicked in. And then she was kissing him back, both hands wrapped around his neck, and his arms came around her waist.

Rachel felt like she had never actually been kissed before. There had been some hot guys in her life, but this was like currents of electricity had replaced her blood. She was hyper aware of Mike and every place their bodies touched. He didn't rush, but there was an intensity to him, almost like the light that flashed in his eyes when he cracked a hard case. Except it was much, much, hotter when he put the urgency into a kiss.

It was perfect, like something out of a T.V. show.

Until his phone rang.

They broke apart, staring at each other, out of breath, faces flushed, with his phone ringing insistently, though it sounded very far away.

"You should get that." Rachel managed to get out.

"Uh-huh." Mike was still locked in her eyes, and having a very hard time convincing himself that the phone call might be important. Only when he summoned the will to check the caller id did he hurriedly press the answer key.

Rachel waited, wondering who could have gotten such a frantic reaction out of Mike.

"Hello?"

"Mike Ross? This is Jessica Pearson." Her cool voice made him nervous even when she was miles away.

"Hello Ms. Pearson." Rachel's face paled at this revelation. He would have been equally anxious, if not for Jessica's next words.

"Mike I don't want you to panic, but Harvey and Donna are both on their way to the hospital."

Only luck kept the phone from dropping out of his hand. Somewhere in his brain he registered the way Rachel's eyes widened at his expression. He was probably paper white by now and he could feel his heartbeat quicken.

His brain was muddled in panic, but some kind of instinct kicked in. He was probably more numb than calm, but either way he was coherent enough to respond with the only question that mattered for the moment.

"What hospital?"

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><p><strong>Next chapter is up so don't even review this one, unless you really want to. Just keep reading (Dory style).<strong>


	9. Chapter 9: With a Vengeance

**NOTE: There are some cryptic references to Donna and Harvey's pasts here, if you don't understand something you probably weren't meant to.**

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><p>Harvey barely registered the click of the gun and the croak of the creepy voice before he was pushing Donna behind him. He didn't know what was going on, only that there was a threat and he couldn't let it touch her.<p>

Donna sighed in exasperation. Even as her mind analyzed the situation she scoffed at Harvey's unreasonable desire to protect her. Placing himself between her and the man with the gun was chivalrous, but stupid. She pointedly stepped to the left and edged forward so they stood side by side, facing a man who looked as if he had just stepped out of one of the offices in the hall.

In a crisp suit, sharp tie, and polished shoes, he looked completely at home in a firm full of lawyers. Only his wild expression and crazy smile gave away the fact that he was actually a complete psycho.

_On second thought, being insane doesn't actually rule him out. Just look out Louis._

Of course, other than the twisted grin that distorted his features, there was also the gun in the hand to hint that his reasons for being in the office were not entirely innocent. That and the death threats he was currently spouting.

"You ruined my life Harv," The lawyer visibly winced, he loathed that nickname. "You and your stupid arrogance, your snobby superior BULLSHIT. YOU. RUINED. MY. LIFE."

The sudden screaming shocked Donna out of her disciplined calm for a moment, but she forced herself to regain mental balance. Utter serenity was the product of years of practice, and no matter how many crazy men waved guns in her face she had no intention of succumbing to panic. It wasn't like she didn't have experience with this.

Harvey was a little less centered. He thoughts jumped around in his head while he tried to figure out who this guy was and why the hell he felt the need to barge in with a 9 mil. Harvey had recognized the gun on sight, and he stifled all the ugly memories that came with it. Instead he tried to get his pounding heart under control and ignore the hysteria that bubbled on the fringes of his mind.

The man was babbling on about what an arrogant prick Harvey was and the fury made him incoherent**.** He kept trailing off and then coming back in the middle of enraged insults.

"You are a stupid asshole... couldn't win a case if Jessica wasn't there to hold your hand…. everyone thinks…. all love you…. but I know. I know…not so great...evil…you did evil things…I know…and I'm GOING. TO. MAKE. YOU. PAY!"

He broke off the screeching and the room descended into a silence that was inexplicably more dangerous than raving death threats. It was as if their anonymous enemy had suddenly gained a new focus. He stood with his head cocked, looking at them the same way a toddler examines a stranger. The youthful mix of curiosity and instant suspicion looked odd on a man's bedraggled face. He spoke and the words came out in a soft, questioning tone.

"You don't know who I am, do you?"

Neither of his victims moved or spoke, but that seemed to be all the response he needed.

"YOU DON'T KNOW WHO _I _AM!" Fury flooded his face with bright red color. The gun began to shake. "IT MUST BE TOO HARD TO REMEMBER EVERY LIFE YOU'VE DESTROYED!"

Harvey remained helplessly oblivious. He knew that the key to gaining a little control in the situation was to assure the man the he did remember, but Harvey had not the faintest glimmer of recognition. He was successful, and success came with enemies. There was no way to tell which malcontent this particular assailant was.

Naturally it was Donna who came to the rescue. After a few moments of racking her brains, memory had reluctantly relinquished the man's identity to her conscious mind. She instantly began to deliberate as to the best use of her first step was obvious. Without some reassurance this man would soon blow both of their heads off.

"Of course he does Alex. Of course he does." Her soothing tone slowed the trembling that had overtaken the man's body. "He knows who you are, he's just a little gun shy. You're scaring him."

In any other situation, Donna making admissions of Harvey's fear would have elicited a seething glare from the proud lawyer. Right now he completely understood her tactic. Making 'Alex' feel superior was important; he was less likely to shoot if he felt in control. The only issue was that Donna's memory was apparently much better than his, the name Alex hadn't triggered more than a faint whisper in the back of his mind. Harvey willed himself to remember the face,

_Alex. Alex. Alex what? From where?_

Donna had a flash of inspiration.

"You know Alex- do you mind that I call you Alex? Would you prefer Mr. Kalvitch?"

_Alex Kalvitch. _

Harvey's brain finally clicked, but it was not as comforting as he would've liked. Alex Kalvitch, a former Pearson-Hardman Junior Partner, had every reason to hate him. Humiliating a man in front of all his colleagues, then revealing that he had taken a bribe and consequently getting him fired did tend to provoke that response.

(**A/N: Remember chapter 2)**

_It was his own fault. _

Though the thought had a tone reminiscent of a sulky teen, the statement was not without merit. In addition to breaking a million ethics codes by taking the bribe in the first place, Alex had incited Harvey to publicly reveal this information in the most mortifying fashion possible. Harvey had intended to deal with the situation privately, with respectful discretion.

Unfortunately Alex had made the mistake of spreading fake rumors about Harvey and Jessica sleeping together, within Harvey's earshot. Such idiocy proved that the Junior Partner was first, a moron, and second, did not deserve any sort of respect, discretion, or mercy. Harvey proceeded accordingly, and promptly shredded the man's dignity and his career.

Clearly Alex did not agree with Harvey's justification.

Donna had succeeded in calming him down to a point, but Harvey doubted that the man would ever be entirely sane. Kalvitch was still panting and his features were distorted by lunatic rage.

He moved past Donna and she stiffened as the edge of his coat brushed against her. A few more steps brought him, and the gun, uncomfortably close to Harvey. The lawyer and ex- lawyer faced each other. One face was lined with hatred and the other was blank in careful impassivity.

Harvey knew he couldn't show any of the fear and disgust he had for this man. Any kind of contempt would likely set him off. In a cautiously neutral tone he asked,

"What do you want?"

"What do I want?" The grotesque grin emerged, "_I _want to kill you Harv. Kill you nice and slow."

Harvey refused to let the fear get to him. He nodded his head at Donna, "Then let her go. She has nothing to do with this."

Donna glared daggers at Harvey. He clearly wished to be the knight in shining armor, but unfortunately there were no damsels in distress to be found. He actually thought she would leave him in the not-so-pleasant company of a psychopath who wished to wreak a painfully lethal revenge?

_As if._

Kalvitch was apparently also against the idea. He shook his head slowly, the awful smile widening. "No I don't think so. I want to make this as painful as possible. And something tells me she is the key."

Harvey cursed himself as an idiot. His eagerness to get Donna out of there was going to get her killed. He had just proven the secretary's value.

Kalvitch took a few steps back and faced both of his victims. They stared defiantly back.

"Now," he said, "how shall I go about this?"

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><p><strong>Sorry for the short chapter and cliffhanger, but I need some time to think through all the things I want to put in the next chapter. What do you think of Kalvitch? Too creepy? Not creepy enough? Just plain weird? Review please, and let me know. Next chapter should be up in a few days.<strong>


	10. Chapter 10: Mona Lisa's Poker Face

__**Sorry for the long wait but I got caught up and wrote two chapters at a time. Both are posted. BTW the italicized lines below are the final lines of the last chapter.**

_Kalvitch took a few steps back and faced both of his victims. They stared defiantly back._

"_Now," he said, "how shall I go about this?"_

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><p>The blow was sudden and it took a moment for the pain to register. Donna staggered back, her hand instinctively reaching to the cut that now scarred her cheek. Harvey yelled in shock and he reached out to steady her. He turned back to Kalvitch, murderous rage flashing in brown eyes, but he pulled up short when the barrel of a 9 milliliter appeared inches from his face.<p>

Kalvitch was completely serious now, focused on his mission. His orders were harsh, and absolute.

"If you question me, I hurt her. If you try to run, I hurt her. If you disobey me, I hurt her."

Harvey nodded in grim acceptance. Kalvitch finished with a final menacing promise.

"If you try to fight back, she dies."

Harvey's poker face was top-quality. Nothing showed. Not the wrenching fear, or overwhelming dread, or simmering anger. And the underlying shame for never telling her, for never being able to tell her, that didn't show either. Harvey pushed the images of Donna's lifeless body away from his mind's eye and concentrated on the only thing that mattered.

_There has to be a way for me to keep her alive._

One step behind him, Donna ignored the trickle of blood on her face. She stayed completely motionless as she watched Kalvitch tie Harvey into a chair. The man had brought rope with him and Donna realized that for all his lunacy, the whole venture was carefully planned. Kalvitch had waited for a day when Harvey stayed late, a night with no witnesses. She suspected that the only unforeseen element had been her own presence in the office. That had just turned into a plus for Kalvitch; she was more effective than rope when it came to controlling Harvey.

Once the lawyer was tightly bound to a wooden chair, Kalvitch went and tied Donna's wrists to the desk. Clearly he longer felt at all threatened, and nonchalance showed in his stride as he strolled back in front of Harvey. In Kalvitch's eyes, Donna was nothing more than a simple secretary. Smart enough to file papers, but not much else.

_Mistake._

The moment his full attention was placed on Harvey, Donna began a cautious search of the desk area she was tied to. She had tried to maneuver herself close to…

_Score._

Harvey's desk was probably worth millions. The actual piece of furniture was pricey, but not off the charts. It was what the desk held that made it valuable. Harvey was known for exceptional work. His rich clients often showed their gratitude with gifts that reflected their ludicrous wealth. The trinkets ranged from autographed baseballs to absurdly expensive pens. Some of his clients had less traditional tastes, such as one peculiar woman who had decided on an ornamental Japanese fan as a thank you gift. Harvey had laughed when he opened the package, saying that the purple and white flowered pattern really wasn't his thing. He offered it Donna, considering it to be more appropriate for a female.

With her usual serenity Donna accepted the gift with polite thanks, and then went to get the cardboard box it arrived in. She placed the box in front of her and opened the fan in one swift motion. Like a knife through butter, the edge of the delicate fan sliced through an inch of cardboard. Harvey watched in bemusement when the cardboard fell into two pieces, his expression changing to awe as he stared at the razor edge of the fan.

"I hear women use them when they want to protect themselves without those clunky swords." Donna had commented. "Beautiful, but dangerous."

Harvey's brain had still been having difficulty processing the scene, but he couldn't help a mental response to Donna's description.

_Beautiful, but dangerous. Just like you._

Back in the ugly present, Donna's fingers had gotten hold of that fan. She maneuvered it cautiously behind her, knowing her timing would have to be impeccable. She watched the scene in front of her carefully, on tenterhooks for her one shot.

Kalvitch had spent the last minute pacing back and forth in front of Harvey. It would have seemed an improvement from yelling or hitting but for the dangerous look in his eye.

_Like a vulture circling a carcass. _The inevitable comparison was unwelcome in Harvey's mind.

Harvey forced himself to remain calm. He was calm when Kalvitch stopped pacing. He was calm when the awful grin twisted itself back into place. He was calm when Kalvitch reached into his suit pocket for a knife.

He was calm when the blade slashed through his crisp sleeve and carved a searing path through his fragile skin.

Donna was not calm. Donna was terrified, and the crimson kept spilling from Harvey's arm, and Kalvitch kept grinning, and the silence crashed down on her because it meant no one was coming to help. They were alone and they were going to die that way.

Then Harvey turned his head and looked at her. She stared back at him, wondering how the man with the 6-inch gash in his arm could be unruffled. Actually it was pissing her off.

_We're both going to die in this godforsaken office and he looks at me like the fucking Mona Lisa. Hell no._

Donna just didn't have the withering glare in her, but she raised an eyebrow in reasonable contempt. Harvey raised one in return and she realized.

_He's planning on a fight. _

She mulled over that for a moment.

_That's all very well and nice. But all I have is a fan. Kalvitch has a knife and a gun, Harvey is tied to a chair, and if it goes wrong we both die._

Donna mentally smacked herself in the forehead. If she had been thinking logically she could have avoided the hysteria.

_We are both going to die anyway. He's right. No sense giving up. _

Donna forced herself back into focused calm. Piecing her poker face back together, she nodded very, very, slightly.

_I got this._

Harvey didn't dare sigh in relief, but he had never been happier to see Donna's implacable expression. She was back with him.

He turned to face Kalvitch who was glaring in impatience.

"You done?"

Harvey stayed perfectly neutral. "Yes"

"Good. Because I'm not."

Harvey didn't wince, didn't twitch, didn't flinch when the knife flashed down again. Red soaked through his pants, spilling from his thigh and splashing onto the floor. It felt like someone was holding hot pokers to his arm and leg, but Harvey refused to give Kalvitch the satisfaction of knowing that. He would've liked to spit in that man's face, but his mouth was dry from pain. Also it might incite Kalvitch to kill him.

_Not ready to die yet._

Harvey had the all the faith of the world in Donna, but the lady was tied to a desk.

_Only so much she can do._

He figured Donna had something cooking- _when doesn't she_ -but it was time for him to lend a hand. If she had anything in mind, she would need a diversion first. Lawyer to the bone he mentally ran through everything he knew about Kalvitch. All he needed was one weak spot and then he would do what he did with every case.

_Press where it hurts._

"Hey Kalvitch, how's that fiancé of yours? Lisa, was it?" Harvey kept his tone amiable.

Kalvitch froze mid-step. He literally stopped breathing for a few moments. Then he leaned in so there were scant inches between his snarling face and Harvey's wide, innocent eyes.

"Lily. It was Lily. And she was beautiful, and perfect, and caring, and I loved her." Kalvitch's tone softened. " I really loved her, you know that? As long as she was there, the world was okay."

The room fell into a silence Harvey knew he shouldn't break. There was more coming.

"Even after I got fired, while I still had her, it would be alright. But then I didn't have her. One day I came home, and she was gone. Her, her clothes, everything. All gone. The only thing she left was a note. She said I had gotten "weird", since I was fired. Weird? What the hell does that even mean? No, she left because I had no job. I wasn't a big shot lawyer anymore, and that meant I wasn't good enough for her. You remember why I had no job, Harv? You remember that?"

The lawyer looked back at him impassively.

"I had no job because of YOU. YOU AND YOUR STUPID, LITTLE, GAMES."

Neither Harvey nor Donna behind him flinched at the sudden screaming.

"You played with me that day Harv. And now I'm going to play with you."

He moved in close again, his face right in front of Harvey's. The two locked eyes as Kalvitch deliberately lowered his knife. It was a slow descent, and every ounce of control Harvey had went into maintaining that unflinching eye contact. He knew all of Kalvitch had to be focused on him and only him.

In a swift moment, the blade flashed through the remaining inches and cut deep into Harvey's side. Pain spread even faster than the blood spilled. The dull aches in his arm and leg were nothing compared to this radiating agony. Still Harvey held Kalvitch's eyes, and even forced a smile, probably more of a grimace, but it infuriated Kalvitch nonetheless.

"We'll see how-"

Harvey never heard the rest of the sentence. One moment Kalvitch was spitting threats into his face and the next he was falling backwards. Harvey blinked in total shock.

His bewilderment muddled his thoughts and for a moment he didn't even realize the ropes that bound his hands had been cut.

"Harvey? Harvey, come on. Are you with me?" An ivory face that was a few shades paler than usual filled his vision. He registered that the brown eyes were Donna's and he caught up a little bit.

"How-"

"The fan."

"Oh." Even in his disordered state Harvey realized what had happened. The fan was a memorable gift.

"It's pretty heavy too." She glanced over her shoulder at Kalvitch. "Looks like it knocked him out."

"Good timing."

"No, it was bad timing. Good timing would have been before he started cutting you open."

"Bad timing would have been after he killed me."

"Would you stop bickering? We need to call an ambulance."

"I'm fine. But we do need to call the cops."

"Also true. Do you think-" Donna was cut off when Harvey suddenly knocked her sideways. A crack rang out and sharp pain pierced through her shoulder. A second crack and a light bulb exploded. A third… and then nothing. The office was silent.

Donna touched her shoulder in amazement as she fell to the floor. Her perfectly manicured finger came away stained red.

_I've been shot. Goddamn._

_._

A frantic Harvey filled her vision.

"Donna? Donna? Can you hear me?" He sounded near hysteria.

Donna just stared up at him, his voice seemed oddly far away. In fact, everything was fading into shadows. The office was falling into darkness, Donna was pretty sure she was passing out. Then sharp words yanked her back.

"Donna, stay with me! Come on, you're tough, you can do this. Just stay with me Donna."

I will, she wanted to say. But even opening her mouth just seemed like too much work. Her limbs felt heavy, her mind was fuzzy.

"Donna, don't go. Please don't go." She had never heard Harvey beg before. "You can't go yet Donna. I need you to stay."

Why, she wanted to ask. Staying was hard; letting go would be so much easier.

"Stay Donna. Stay for me. Stay because I love you."

She barely had time to register shock before Harvey's face was replaced by a strangers'. People bustled around her, a mask was strapped onto her face, and a sharp prick declared the entrance of an IV into her arm. Normally Donna would have hated the sense of helplessness the whole process gave her. But right now she didn't care.

_Send Harvey back. He needs to explain himself._


	11. Chapter 11: A Headache

Donna woke in a haze of pain. Some genius had decided to place the brightest light bulbs in the entire world directly above her head. They glared into her eyes, furious beacons of fluorescence. The surfaces around her were all a vindictively sterile white, reflecting the beam back at her a thousand times over. It was like the light was intentionally trying to give her the worst headache possible.

_Mission accomplished._

She realized a few things at once. First, she had to be in a hospital because no other place was this blindingly white. Two, she had been there more than one night because a large pile of flowers had accumulated on the table next to her. Three, she had a _massive_ headache.

She turned her throbbing head cautiously to find Harvey dozing in a chair next to her. Donna reached out to wake him up, but sharp pain brought her arm to an abrupt stop.

_Ah yes, that's right. I've been shot._

It seemed like an odd thing to forget. As the pain washed through her so did the memories.

Kalvitch breaking into the office. Harvey tied to a chair, her to a desk. Harvey being stabbed, once, twice, three times. Her slicing through the rope with a fan. The satisfying clunk that same fan made when it knocked Kalvitch out.

Except it didn't knock him out.

The next sequence of events was a bit blurry, her mind hadn't quite had time to process.

She remembered Harvey pushing her out of the way as he dove after a waking Kalvitch. She remembered the first shot, the one that hit her. She remembered the second and third shots. She remembered being on the ground looking up at Harvey as he begged her to stay awake. She remembered…

_Oh shit._

She remembered Harvey saying he loved her.

_Sweet Jesus._

All of a sudden she had no desire whatsoever for Harvey to wake up. She really didn't want to have to look him in the eye. She wasn't sure she could. Unconsciously, Donna brought her hand up to her face and gasped at the sudden pain that rocked through her.

_Oh yeah. Bullet went through that arm. Probably shouldn't move it._

An anxious voice broke the silence around her.

"Donna, are you okay?"

_Dammit._

She forced a smile. "Yea. Just forgot I'd been shot in that arm."

"You'd think that'd be something you'd remember."

She shrugged, but only on her right side.

"How are you feeling? I'm glad you're awake."

_I'm not. Wish I was still sleeping. Everything was much simpler when I was unconscious._

She didn't say that though. Instead she tried to respond normally. Whatever normal was in this situation anyway.

"Got a bit of a headache. Would you mind dimming that light?"

He did, "Sorry about that. I don't think the doctors were expecting you to be awake yet. They need the light this bright for examinations."

The painful brilliance around her toned down as the beams lost some of their angry blaze.

"Other than my head and my arm I'm doing alright. You know, considering I was shot and everything."

His eyes tightened in…fear? Sadness? She tried to place the emotion that had flashed across his face.

"I know. I' so sorry you had to go through that."

There was a strain in his voice that matched the sentiment in his eyes. Guilt.

_Well that's pretty stupid. _

"_You're _sorry. For god's sake, why? It's Kalvitch that should be sorry. Where is he anyway?"

"I couldn't tell you exactly, but I'd guess a morgue some place."

Donna took a moment to process this, and another to get some control over the riot of emotion his coarse statement provoked. She realized what must have happened.

"The third bullet."

"What?"

"There were three shots. The first bullet hit me, the second one hit the light bulb, the third hit-"

"Him." Harvey finished the sentence for her.

"You facing charges?"

"No. In light of my being stabbed and you being shot, Jessica established a case of self defense pretty quick."

"I bet she did. Speaking of my being shot, you never answered my first question."

He looked wary now, "Which was what?"

"Why the hell you feel responsible for a crazy bastard putting a bullet in me?"

"You were in my office because of me. He was also in my office because of me. He shot you. Logically, it's my fault."

"Bullshit. Logically," she mocked him, "it's his fault, because he pulled the damn trigger."

"He wouldn't have been there-"

"Honest to God, Harvey Specter, he was there because you did your job. If you say another word about being responsible for this I will go work for Louis."

He broke off protesting. It was a threat she would never follow through on, but she only used it when she was pissed.

"Listen up. This. Was. Not. Your. Fault. If I had been at my desk outside your office, you think I would have just sat there while Kalvitch waltzed in with a gun? You think he would have let me sit there? Actually it's probably good I was in your office because if I wasn't he may have just shot me in the head on his way in."

Harvey's eyes darkened. "You're right."

Donna blinked. That had to have been a record time for Harvey's acquiescence.

"I know I am, but I'm surprised you caught up that quickly."

"You're right that it's probably good that you were in my office. Because if Alex had killed you, I would be sitting in a cell right now, charged with murder in the second degree and no case for self defense."

"But he didn't kill me. Because you saved my life. So really I should be thanking you."

"I don't think I deserve gratitude."

"How about we call it even?"

He eyed her for a moment and then granted her a small smile.

"O.K."

Donna sighed in relief. Harvey may not have been happy with it, but she was certainly not going to allow him to hang guilt over his own head.

The silence between them lasted only a few seconds before Harvey's ringtone pierced the air. He glanced at the caller id, and then answered.

"Hi, Mike."

The tirade of questions that burst out of the phone was audible even to Donna who sat a few feet away.

Harvey was quick to cut his associate off.

"She's doing okay. Yea she's even awake. I know I said I would tell you when she did, but she only opened her eyes five minutes ago. I wanted to give her a little bit of time before I unleashed a hyper active puppy on her."

Donna grinned at this as Mike's protests rang through the phone. She held out her hand for the cell. Harvey looked at her with some hesitation. He clearly did not feel she was ready to handle Mike. She glared at him with an extra dose of contempt.

_Since when have I had trouble handling anyone?_

Harvey reluctantly relinquished his mobile, and left her to her conversation. He took the opportunity to partake in some thorough observation. She did look a little better than she had yesterday, but she was still too pale, too fragile. Delicate was never a word he would have used to describe his secretary, but recent events had proven she was. That he was too. It was just part of being human, it doesn't take much to wipe out a life.

But she never should have been within ten miles of that kind of situation. The only reason she had been anywhere near Kalvitch was because of her connection to Harvey. If she worked for any lawyer but him she wouldn't have to deal with crazed maniacs. For a moment the image of Donna, color leaching out of a pale face even faster than blood soaked through her shirt, flashed before his eyes.

Gloomy thoughts were interrupted as a phone waved in front of his eyes.

"Hello? Earth to Harvey? Here's your cell."

He blinked, and looked up at her, "Huh? Oh, thanks."

She raised her eyebrows, "You okay?"

"Fine. Doctors say I should be pretty much recovered in another few days." He made to leave, really wanting to get out of that room, but Donna's tone yanked him back.

"Harvey. You know I didn't mean medically healthy, I mean _are you okay?_"

He stopped and looked at her. She was staring at him, brown eyes filled with serious concern. For a moment he considered telling her everything. Everything he really, really wanted to say. About how he was sorry, about how scared he'd been that Kalvitch would kill her, about how powerless he'd felt in that office, about how he lov-.

Then reality crashed in and cut him off. She'd already heard it and either didn't remember or didn't want to talk about it. If she didn't remember it was best he just left it. If she did remember then this was a subtle way of telling him that he should let it go. So he just nodded.

"Yea, I'm fine."

Donna stared after her boss as he wheeled himself out the door.

_He most certainly is not fine. _

For once in her life Donna had no idea what to do. She knew he had _said_ he loved her, but there were a million different possibilities as to what he meant. He could have said it in desperation, to keep her alive. He could have meant only on a friendship level. Even if he did mean it romantically, Donna wasn't sure that her and Harvey's definitions of love matched up. He was a guy of 8-hour relationships. Donna didn't hold that against him, but one-night stands were really not her style.

The slim possibility did technically exist that Harvey had meant it seriously, the way Donna wanted him to. She didn't even know what to do with that. Office relationships were never easy, and one with Harvey had every chance of ending in disaster. He was what her grandmother would have called a "summer storm boyfriend". Beautifully sunny one moment and pouring rain the next.

She sighed and leaned her head back. What she had told Rachel that night had been completely true.

_There's no going back._

If they tried it out, and it didn't work…Donna's stomach clenched. She was less than sure their friendship could survive. She wasn't even certain they could keep working together. The thought of having to find a new job, maybe even at a new firm, was wrenching.

And then for a moment, Donna let herself imagine dating Harvey.

_If he wasn't so fricking gorgeous this would be much less of an issue._

But he was. And he was also funny and interesting and as much as he may hide it, Harvey could be really sweet. The few times they had allowed themselves to go to dinner together, it had been better than any date. Harvey left most of his cold pride at the office, and she loved the man underneath the perfect lawyer persona. Pearson-Hardman´s Harvey, as she privately thought of him, was sexy and brilliant and she liked him well enough. But she loved the Harvey that took her to dinner. He brought her flowers, and opened doors for her. They sat at a secluded table and laughed over expensive food. He insisted upon buying her the chocolate dessert she only ever let herself enjoy when she was with him. Essentially, Harvey was the perfect date.

Except it wasn't a date.

The night ended when Harvey dropped her off at her apartment. Every single time Donna had to resist the temptation to ask him inside for a drink. She knew exactly where that would lead, and it was not a place she could come back from. Still, only through the supreme effort of her rational mind was Donna able to ignore that little voice in the back of her head that said everything would be worth it.

_No, the risk would be too big._

The little voice piped back up.

_Scaredy-cat_

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry about the length of the chapters and if this one was a little cliche. Also I apologize for the long wait, these were kinda hard to write. Maybe 3 chapters left? I think? Not really sure, I'll see how it goes. Anyway thanks to anyone who is reading. Review if you are feeling the love.<strong>

**Thanks!**


	12. Chapter 12: A Survivor's Story

Harvey glanced around as he stepped out of the elevator. He had purposefully timed his arrival so it would coincide with the associates' meeting Louis held once a week. Every Monday Litt took the opportunity to instill as much fear in the young lawyers as possible. It was his way of ensuring efficiency.

Harvey took a breath and winced. The doctor had been strongly against such an early return to work, but Harvey considered a full week more than enough time for recovery. It was really no big deal that pain pricked his side every time he made the mistake of breathing too hard. At least he had gotten beyond that stupid shuffle walk.

The fact that he still moved hunched like a grandma was half the reason Harvey didn't want to be noticed as he slipped back into his office. He also didn't want to deal with the stares.

Mike had informed him that in the seven days since Kalvitch, the rumor mill had managed some serious embellishing. Harvey had thought the attack was quite dramatic enough, but some people had felt the need to add a little excitement. The latest version was that Kalvitch had burst in with a chainsaw and an automatic gun. Allegedly, he then chained Harvey to a chair and wrapped Donna in barbed wire. The young associates were so in awe of the secretary that they did not doubt her ability to somehow untangle herself and then proceed to lasso Kalvitch with the wire. She then supposedly broke open Harvey's chains who heroically- he quite liked this part- dived in front of her when Kalvitch managed to get a hold of his gun. Donna got shot in the shoulder and Harvey took a bullet to the stomach. But he still knocked Kalvitch to the ground with a roundhouse punch before grabbing the gun and putting an end to the fight.

_Well, _Harvey thought, _they got the last bit right. Other than the roundhouse punch._

The whole tale had sunk into Pearson-Hardman legend, but Harvey relied on Jessica to put an end to some of the more spectacular bits of the story. Like the gossip some moron had spread about Harvey bringing Donna back from the brink of death by kissing her. That was not the kind of talk he would tolerate.

Harvey sat down with at his desk with a sigh. He had made it all the way to his office with only a mailman and a few Junior Partners as witnesses. The mailman had passed obliviously- he wasn't a regular visitor to the firm- but the Junior Partners made no attempt to disguise their goggling stares. Usually Harvey welcomed the awe of his co-workers, but he knew this was undeserved. He couldn't, would never, be able to deny that he had nearly gotten Donna killed. He ran through the events in his head a million times, images of Donna tied up, Donna bleeding, flashing by his mind's eye. Each time he saw a different way he could have stopped it, another way he could have saved her.

But he hadn't and it wasn't something Harvey could let slide.

She had berated him more the once for his guilt, but it made no difference. Harvey knew it wasn't going to go away. It took him a bit to realize what was so utterly inexcusable about his behavior. It wasn't that he hadn't stopped Kalvitch from tying her up. It wasn't that he hadn't stopped the bullet that ripped into her shoulder.

It was that he had told her he loved her.

From an objective perspective this seemed like seriously insane logic, Harvey . Donna had stared up at him, eyes just barely beginning to widen in surprise, when he was pushed away by the bustling paramedics. He had retained enough sense to get out of the professionals' way, but as he stood uselessly and stared at the chaos in front of him, Harvey realized that he might never see her again. That image of Donna, blood dripping from her shoulder, red hair scattered behind her bruised face, and beautiful brown eyes tinted with shock, could have been the picture of Donna that stayed with Harvey for the rest of his life.

And she would never have known that he loved her; he would never know if she loved him back; he never would have been able to execute that perfect date he had planned out to the tiniest detail.

In his head, the indictments started up. Shooting back and forth, torturing him because he knew he was guilty on all charges.

_I tell her now? Now? As she lies there, possibly dying, that is my brilliant timing to tell her I love her? Why didn't I tell her before? Why didn't I tell her?_

Harvey knew why. He knew he'd rather lose a million cases than lose the one woman who had mysteriously managed to break through and find the guy he had shut up so long ago. He'd decided, right after his 10-year-old world fell apart, that he needed to be more than he was. So he created a perfect exterior, impenetrable and impeccable, and it worked flawlessly. He went where he needed to go, passed every test with flying colors, and kept his kinder traits well hidden. Because he'd learned. Kindness got you nowhere and trust always came with something attached.

Until Donna.

No strings, no catches, she was practically perfect. Sure they bickered, but that was half the fun. Actual fights were few and far between; they were usually because one of the pair was too stubborn to back down.

Harvey grinned. He would never admit it, but he had realized that the hard headedness was more his problem than Donna's. Of course the lady was so obdurate she put Mt Everest to shame, but she somehow managed to be adamant on all the correct points. Against all odds, she was more often stubborn and right than stubborn and wrong.

He sat back in his chair and remembered the event that led to where he had gotten today. The "incident" that meant only three people had made it through all the trials that were necessary before he felt he could trust them.

A ten year old boy lay on his bed, tossing the baseball into the air and watching the neat spiral the stitching made as it fell back into his hands. A knock on the door interrupted his reverie and he sat up, ball in hand, to face the uniformed officer whose bulk filled the entrance to his room.

"Harvey Specter?" The question wasn't really a question at all. Nevertheless, golden hair flopped as the boy nodded.

"I'm afraid I have some bad news for you son." The man was kind enough, but his words were cold and foreboding. They crept into the boy's ears and wrapped icy tremors around his spine.

"It's your father." Nothing else needed to be said. Harvey already knew. He listened anyway to the story of icy roads and a speeding truck. Inside he was breaking.

His father had always told him to be tough. "Chin up." he had commanded, "Life's rough, no use crying over it." So Harvey didn't cry. He went to the funeral, sat, and went home. His mother didn't cry either. Instead she drank. The alcohol dissolved the little her husband's death had left behind.

Five years later, in a smaller house, Harvey was back to lying on the bed. He threw the ball higher now and caught it more surely. He was thinking about his pitch and what he could do to perfect his curveball. He was also waiting, wondering how late it would be that night.

The laughter came first. Sloppy and obnoxious, the volume heightened by the alcohol. Everything was funny to drunks. Then the key scraped against the lock, it never took her less than six tries to get it in. Next his mother and her newest catch would topple across the doorstep, clinging to each other in a futile attempt to stay upright. Harvey supposed his balance would be impaired too if he drank for six hours straight. The last sounds of his mother and her "friend" faded as they stumbled down the stairs that led to the basement. Harvey wished he was young enough to not know what came next. Better yet, he wished he could get away from the failure that was his mother.

She would leave at noon every morning, allegedly to find some work. He wasn't always sure what she did for the next six hours, sometimes she really did fin an odd job. Sometimes she would find her group of "friends". The same ones who once convinced her to steal a DVD player. She spent three days in jail for that before the judge let her off because of her "trying circumstances". Harvey wasn't sure what was so 'trying' about spending half a day too drunk to think, but clearly the judge was sympathetic.

While his mother shoplifted, drank, and slept, Harvey survived. His teachers marveled at his straight As, which he pulled despite varsity baseball and a job at the local carpenter's. He saved what he could, and collected the welfare checks every month. His mother drank more than she ate, so he kept grocery bills to a minimum. He paid the tab at the bar because he knew that if he didn't she would resort to less legal ways to get her precious alcohol. A concerned coach gave Harvey what he needed to play in the games, but the teenager brushed off any additional help. The lady from social services came the same day every three months and Harvey learned all the tricks to making his mother presentable for that one hour visit. The woman left with suspicion stamped all over her face, but she had too many other problems to pursue a gut instinct. Some might question Harvey's insistence on self-reliance, but he knew it was what he had to do.

It was what his father would have wanted.

A knock on his office door pulled Harvey out of his memories. Back in the present, Jessica stood in his doorway, the soft kindness she only revealed on the rarest of occasions mixed with the chocolate brown of her eyes.

As he braced himself for a conversation in which it would take serious effort to avoid talking about what he was feeling, Donna lay on her couch, immersed memory as well. Ever since that day Donna had begun the construction of her impenetrable poker face.

Feelings were messy and risky. Control was clean and painless. She had figured this out at age thirteen. The day he died.

* * *

><p><strong>Hey guys, sorry this is late. I had finals and I wasn't sure what to put in this. I decided I want something about these characters' pasts because its such a wide open subject in the series. So what do you think of my version? Any ideas for what I should do with Donna's past? Review with any and all comments, feedback, or ideas for my next chapter. Sorry this is dragging out, I had a lot more to say about these characters than I thought.<strong>

**Thanks!**


	13. Chapter 13: Control or the Lack Thereof

_Feelings were messy and risky. Control was clean and painless. She had figured this out at age thirteen. The day he died._

* * *

><p>She was 13 years old on that day and completely immersed in <em>Great Expectations. <em>An English teacher took note of her precocious intelligence and had recommended Dickens. Donna dived into the world of Pip like a fish into water. Such was her focus on the oddities of Miss Havisham that she didn't hear the first knock. The second was louder and it broke through her concentration.

Dropping the paperback on the pillows, she went to see who could be on the doorstep at 10 in the evening. She glanced through the window beside the door, ever cautious of unwanted company. The glimpse granted by the small pane of glass was enough.

White caps set squarely on hair cut close to the skull. Features chiseled into hard faces. Gold buttons marched in a straight line down the blue jackets, coming to a halt just above the white belts. Various awards that she didn't recognize adorned the fabric under the right shoulders. The white pants fell straight down, not a speck of dust to be found. Their uniforms were crisp, creases exact, not a thread out of place.

Marines were always the epitome of precision.

The door wavered in front of Donna's suddenly blurry eyes. She knew what was coming and even as she reached for the handle, she didn't want to turn it. She didn't want to open the door and let those officers tell her what she already knew.

Maybe if she kept the door closed he wouldn't be dead.

But she did turn the handle, and she did face those men on the doorstep. They were all hard edges and sharp angles except for the softness in their eyes. Their words were soft too, but that didn't make the news any less of a mind-numbing, heart-wrenching blow. There was no easy way to tell a girl that her brother was dead.

One month. Matthew had one month left. It was his third tour, his last tour. God knew how many hail storms of bullets he'd walked through before a random shot from some brainwashed insurgent ripped through the tiny space of exposed flesh on his neck.

Donna shut her eyes against the image of her beloved brother, sprawled in the dust on some god forsaken road, blood pooling around his handsome face. If he had turned his head or tucked his chin in or lowered himself a fraction of an inch closer to the ground, he'd still be alive. What struck her was the mindless nature of it. Her brother had never done anything wrong, he trained and fought and obeyed all the orders, followed all the rules.

But he was still dead. Because the chaos of war doesn't have rules, nothing that says what is right and what is wrong.

The two men in front of her were still talking, but stopped abruptly when a dilapidated Chevy pulled into the driveway. They both turned to face it and missed the way the thirteen year old behind them suddenly stiffened. Donna's eyes tracked the car as it rolled along the pavement and she flinched almost imperceptibly when the door swung open. A brown hiking boot emerged, followed by worn jeans and a leather jacket. The bulky man stepped out of his car, standing tall to confront the men on his doorstep.

When she saw her father pause as he exited the car, as if the Marines at the door surprised him, she knew he was priming an act. He should have noticed the men as he came up the road, and been prepared by the time he hit the driveway. His expression was wary as the pair approached him but morphed into deep grief as soon as they began speaking. The lack of an interlude before he began to sob also informed her that his performance, while convincing, was insincere. Her father detested her brother; if he had any lingering paternal love, it certainly wasn't enough to reduce him to tears.

Donna didn't cry. She had debated whether or not to allow herself a few tears in front of the Marines, but now that her father was home the decision was definite. Crying would have to wait until she was safely out of the sight of those piggy eyes.

The sight of her father made Donna consider a problem she had been safe from for two years. The problem of dodging slaps, ducking bottles, and covering up the bruises she hadn't been able to avoid.

Her father had a nasty temper after he'd been at the bar.

Matt had done his best to protect her, but his father had had three inches on him and 50 pounds. Then Matt left for Marine training. He'd returned thirteen months later, an equal to his father in height and breadth. The only difference was he had layers of muscle to match his father's layers of fat.

Donna remembered the triumph in her brother's eyes as he told the drunken slob that under no circumstances would he ever lay a hand on his daughter again. Their father held no illusions about what would happen if Matthew returned home to find his little sister bruised or cut. And for the 22 months that her brother was deployed Donna stayed safe, protected by the threat of revenge.

But now, as the soldiers disappeared down the street, they unknowingly left Donna in a dangerous situation. Unable to vent his temper on his daughter or son, the walls of the house had suffered when her father went through a bad mood. His favorite target was now back within reach.

Donna knew there was nothing she could do to stop that hand from coming at her face. She knew there was nothing she could have done to stop that bullet from killing her brother.

But she was damned if she wasn't going to stop it from ruining her life.

That thirteen year old made herself a promise. She would live through the alcohol -induced rages and she would get herself out. Her brother made it to the Marines, and while he died there, he died a man on his own terms. She wasn't joining the armed forces, but she would escape all the same. For the time being she would be fighting anyway, in her own, private two-person war.

_Me and dear old Dad. A fight to the finish. _

She knew he could kill her. That little piece of knowledge settled like a pit in the bottom of her stomach, a dark shadow always on the edges of her awareness. Not just literally kill her, he could murder her spirit, her will to live. She knew he could break her if she didn't work everyday to stop him. She knew this, but it never showed.

She kept everyone at arms length. Conscious that she could never bring a friend home to meet her father she just abandoned the concept of friends all together. Still, no one ever worried over her because she didn't let them see anything to worry about.

And no matter how many times her father hit her, yelled in her face, or spit at her feet, not an ounce of fear touched her features. This show of nonchalance was her quiet rebellion until she turned 18 and finally cut through the rope tethering her to that house of nightmares. 5 years after her brother died, she faced her father for a final confrontation, armed with a letter.

Fear, anger, and anticipation battled in her head as she descended the stairs that day. Of course her features betrayed not a twitch of emotion, her poker face long having been perfected. Her father slouched in front of the T.V., beer in hand and a bowl of greasy chips in his lap. He heard her footsteps behind him, but his attention stayed riveted on the football game that glared from the screen in front of him. Only when she placed herself directly in front of the television did he meet her eyes.

"What the fuck are you doing? I'm trying to watch that."

She allowed herself a small smile.

"Yes, I can see that. I just thought I'd say goodbye."

He flicked his head in response to that last word.

"Goodbye? What, are you taking a vacation?" He chortled at his own joke. Donna's smile never wavered.

"No, I'm going to college." The words sliced through the air and cut him off mid-laugh. He stood, wobbled a little, and stepped towards her. She resisted the urge to run and instead faced him, brown eyes strong with conviction.

"College?" He started to laugh again, but this time without mirth. "As if any school would take a stupid bitch like you."

He had apparently never bothered to read any of the straight A report cards her teachers marveled over. It wasn't enough for an Ivy, but…

"Actually NYU offered me a full ride." She paused, letting this sink in. "I took it."

Red bubbled over his fleshy cheeks as this information sunk in. He took a threatening step towards her.

"How dare you? After all I've done-"

She couldn't help it. 15 years of rage and fear overpowered her control. So she laughed. To her own ears it sounded bitter and angry and a little bit sad.

"All you've done?" She let incredulity color her tone, then spoke softly. "Dad, you haven't done a selfless thing in your entire life. I sincerely hope that one day someone knocks on your sorry, flabby ass. I doubt it will teach you any kind of lesson, but it would at least make me feel better." She gave a dramatic sigh. "I guess I will have to take what I can get."

She snatched her precious letter from his incredulous fingers and marched out the door. A taxi was waiting, her meager possessions packed into the trunk, and she settled into the backseat, as close to happy as she'd been since she was thirteen.

_From now on_, she decided firmly, _I'll be the master of my own fate. No more letting others take control for me._

Back in the present, the pain that throbbed in her shoulder reminded Donna that she wasn't always going to have control. She had figured that out, and made her peace with it. But recently she had lost control in a completely new, completely unexpected manner.

She had fallen in love with Harvey Specter.

_This is going to get messy. I hate messy._

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><p><em><em>**Sorry this is so dramatic, I wasn't intending to make her father this evil, but that's just how it turned out. This has gone on much longer than expected, but the next chapter will be the last. I actually already have it written, just need to do a little editing, so it should be up in a few days. **

**Thanks!**


	14. Chapter 14: To Remember, To Forget

"You know, we never really talked about it." Harvey's casual remark broke the silence that had existed between them ever since they began this impromptu walk twenty minutes ago.

"It?" Donna asked, purposefully stalling, trying to understand why he was initiating this conversation. She had agreed to the stroll Harvey had suggested back at the office because she appreciated a chance to get away from all the staring. Goggling associates had become quite the norm since the attack. But Donna hadn't been able to figure Harvey's reasons for asking her to join him.

_He couldn't be getting at- no. _Harvey wasn't one to discuss feelings, so he couldn't possibly be bringing up the moment before the paramedics arrived.

"Kalvitch." His tone was firm and he stopped walking so he could face her. "But you knew that."

"Well, I couldn't make it too easy for you." She kept her tone light, not sure she liked where this was headed. She didn't really want to talk about Kalvitch. She didn't like the memories that had surfaced when he'd slapped her. She wasn't as certain of how she felt about Harvey's words to her before the paramedics arrived, but knew that talking about it was likely to get messy. And she was certain she didn't like mess.

"I guess the whole thing is a bit of a blur." His casual tone might've fooled her if she hadn't remembered the every word he'd said to her in precise detail. It wasn't every day Harvey Specter told you he loved you.

"I remember a few things."

She knew he'd said it back then, in the midst of blood, and death, and fear. But she needed him to say it now, again. She needed him to tell her that he had been serious, and that he would always be serious when he said it. She needed him to say it so she could know that he meant it the way she wanted him to mean it.

"Um," Harvey cursed himself for starting so clumsily. He was a lawyer for Christ's sake, he knew how to talk! He just wasn't sure he could do it. He wasn't this person who got gooey and mushy and talked about their feelings. He hadn't been anything close to sentimental for a long time. People took sentiment and stabbed you in the back with it. He had to trust Donna not to do that.

"Donna, here's the thing. Do you remember after you got shot? When we were waiting for the paramedics and I was telling you to stay with me?" She nodded slowly, on tenterhooks, hoping against hope he was going where she thought he was going.

"I told you something else. I-" He stopped short and took in an agonizingly slow breath. Memories of other people he loved, the same people who'd left him ran through his mind. He let out the breath; Donna wouldn't betray him like that.

"I told you I loved you."

Fireworks exploded, angels sang, the heavens opened, music played…

_Okay maybe that's my imagination, _Donna admitted. But she could honestly swear that she had never been so happy. It was a moment for clichés. Every cheesy romance movie she had ever seen suddenly seemed a lot less ridiculous than they had before.

She was thinking this, and then suddenly realized it had been a full minute since he told her, and she had still not said anything, too occupied with her own happiness.

_Well, that's awkward._

She looked at him. He stared back at her. She searched his brown eyes, but failed to find a single hint of emotion, Harvey had taken her silence for rejection and was shutting himself down. She knew what that was like.

_He thinks I'm trying to come up with a way to let him down easy._

His next words confirmed this theory.

"Donna you don't have to be in love with me. God knows I didn't expect that." The slight edge told her that he had hoped for it. "But at least say _something._ I think I deserve more than silence."

_You do deserve more. A lot more. _

But Harvey didn't give her a chance to say anything before he spun on his heel and walked away.

_Shit._

"Harvey. Harvey!" Even her most intimidating tone could not get him to turn. So she ran after him.

_This is completely ludicrous. I am actually __**in**__ a rom-com right now._

Only when she physically put a hand on his shoulder did he do her the favor of meeting her eyes. His gaze was sad. Hers was pissed.

"Thank you! Now that you have deigned to meet my eyes, I'll tell you what I probably should have told three months after you hired me."

"What? That we could never have a relationship outside of the office. That even if we didn't work together we could never be happy with each other. Save it Donna. Tell me something I don't know." And again she was confronted with the sight of his receding back.

"Hey! Hey! God damn it Harvey Specter, look at me!" He did. Which was good because Donna was an inch away from totally losing it. She advanced on him menacingly.

"You are insufferable, and cocky, and intolerably sure of yourself. You never know when to stop and hell will freeze over before you admit that you're wrong."

They were inches apart now. The ferocity of her onslaught had apparently shocked him into immobile silence. Donna could feel the warmth of him, and she did the only thing she could after insulting him more times in one breath than she had in the last year.

She kissed him.

And if angels sang, the heavens opened, music played, and fireworks exploded, Donna would not have noticed. She was completely immersed in Harvey. In the taste of his lips on hers. In the texture of his hair in her hands. In the way he held her close, with two arms around her, like he would never let her go. In the fact that this kiss was better than every other kiss she had ever had, combined.

Harvey had to admit that he had frozen when the lips of his beautiful secretary met his. But only for a second.

Then he was kissing her back with every thing he had. If this was a fluke, and he couldn't get rid of the niggling suspicion that it was, he was going to make damn well be sure it was the best fluke he could get. He decided that even if it wasn't going to last, it was still worth it. Even if he never saw her again, it was still worth it.

Because kissing Donna was better than sex with any other woman on the planet. Her lips were perfect, her body was perfect, she was perfect. Harvey forgot about betrayals and absent parents. He forgot about reservations and concerns and cynicism.

He was just thinking that nothing could be better than this, when it did. Donna broke away from him, and his initial disappointment was swept away when she put her lips to his ear.

The whisper stole into his brain, and he would never forget the sound of her voice when she told him.

"I love you too."

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, for those of you disappointed that this final scene didn't really discuss their histories, I apologize. I kinda wrote this chapter in one go and liked the way it came out. But I also felt like I should've had a lot more about how their pasts came into play. So I was thinking I would write a sequel to this fic, one that talks about Harvey and Donna's relationship and how their pasts play a part as things develop. Also a bit more about how Kalvitch's attack affected them. What do you think? Criticisms, ideas, and encouragement are all welcome.<strong>

**Thank you to everyone who read this, an extra thanks to everyone who took the time to review, and best of luck to all other writers out there. It's been fun and I hope some of you try my future fics.**

**Thanks!**


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